I'd Come For You
by iluvtorun
Summary: A little something fun to keep us occupied during Arrow's 2 week break. After the Count kidnaps Felicity, Oliver decides to take drastic action to keep her out of harm's way. Spoilers for 2x07, State V. Queen. Inspired by "I'd Come For You" by Nickleback. Started out as a little something and got wildly out of hand. Of course, none of the characters are mine.
1. Taken

_AN: Ahh, the writers are doing an epic EPIC job on Arrow. Slow burn for Olicity, enough DC references to keep even the biggest comic aficionado thrilled, and lots and lots of little plot gems. I KNEW the hosen was going to end up being important J This little fic is my effort to keep myself entertained for the next two weeks. Inspired by Nickleback's song "I'd Come for You." I've always been intriqued by the lyrics to this song. "I'd come for you, no one but you. Yes, I'd come for you, but only if you told me to." So, this will start off during 2x07, State V. Queen, and go on its own tangent. Hopefully it will get us through the next 2 weeks. J Enjoy. The lyrics to the song and the characters aren't mine. Boo._

Chapter 1: Taken

Oliver leaned against the railing of the courthouse rotunda. He was tired of waiting. He knew that waiting for his mother's verdict could take hours, or even days, and the thought made him feel like a caged beast. Being idle was difficult since he had returned from the island. He spoke with Thea, to fill the time, but was secretly glad when his cell phone rang. Pulling it out and seeing Felicity's name, he felt a bit of relief. At least with her, he didn't need to pretend. Making an apology to Thea, he pulled out his phone.

"Felicity," he said, waiting for her to tell him her latest discovery.

"Oliver," said a voice who was decidedly _not _Felicity. He froze on the spot as the gravelly voice sank into his bones. A voice with just an edge of crazy. A voice he knew. "Is it okay if I call you Oliver? Surprised to hear from me, right? Not as surprised as I was."

The Count. The Count had Felicity's phone. Which meant the Count had Felicity. Oliver listened to the lunatic, wishing he would get to the point so that he could get into action.

"You see, I find this not unattractive blonde getting all up in my business." Oliver heard the Count take a few steps and then he can hear Felicity crying. " And what does she have on her? A Queen Consolidated ID badge. . . " Oliver could hardly hear anything beyond Felicity's terrified whimpers, closing his eyes against the pain of her terror. Finally the Count ended his tyrade with a flourish, revealing that he knows that Oliver is Arrow, and disconnects the call.

Without thought, Oliver stormed toward the stairs. He had to get to Felicity.

"Where are you going?" Thea's voice broke through the haze of red in his brain. He marched back toward her, searching his mind of an adequate excuse. He could find none.

"Something's come up at the office," he said lamely, immediately turning back toward the stairs. There was no time to debate this.

Thea called after him, but he couldn't worry about that. "I have to go," he called, then took the stairs two at a time.

As he rushed toward his motorcycle, he called Diggle. "How did this happen?" He demanded.

He heard silence on the other end for a moment. "How did _what_ happen, Oliver?"

"You need to track Felicity's phone. The Count has her."

He heard a muttered expletive as Diggle took in what he said. "She went to go check out a lead."

Oliver growled. "WHY on earth would she do that, Digg? Why would you let her?"

More silence. "I shouldn't have. Oliver . . . "

Oliver cut him off, furious with Diggle and with himself for letting her get in harm's way. "Her cell, Diggle."

He heard Diggle typing on the keys. "Queen Consolidated."

Oliver hung up and gunned the motor cycle.

Xxx

Fifteen minutes later he had arrived outside his own office. It only made sense that this was where the Count would take her. He had spent the entire ride here trying NOT to think of all of the things that could have happened to her in those fifteen minutes. As he strode toward his office, he tried to clear his mind and focus on the job at hand. He would see that she was safe. There was no other alternative.

He saw her then, in his office. She was tied to a chair and looked absolutely terrified. But she met his eyes, letting him know that she was okay. Then she cringed, and he realized the Count was stroking her hair. Something he himself had felt the urge to do, but resisted. That the Count was doing it made him see red again, but he measured his stride and approached the door slowly, assessing the situation.

The Count was hiding himself behind Felicity. Oliver knew immediately that he wouldn't be able to get off a clear shot. The Count began talking. Oliver only half listened, continuing to take things in. Felicity was shaking like a leaf, but continued to hold his gaze without making a sound.

And then the Count grasped Felicity's shoulders, making her jump. "You poisoned me and put me in a hole. You have no idea how much I hated you for that. Turns out, someone else hates you too."

"Who?" he ground out.

More soliloquy from the Count. And then FINALLY, it was time for action. The Count drew a gun and fired. Oliver dived behind the sofa, feeling a sting on his left arm. Nothing major, he had probably been grazed by a bullet. "You're going to have try harder," he taunted.

The Count fired again, then reached down to cut Felicity's bonds. _NO_, Oliver thought. He grabbed her by her hair and pushed her toward the windows, keeping her between himself and Oliver. The Count moved toward the sofa Oliver had hid behind, not realizing that Oliver was already up and circling around toward the door. By the time the Count realized he wasn't there, Oliver had an arrow nocked and pointed at his heart.

"So now we move on to Plan B," the Count growled, pulling out a double syringe and holding it to Felicity's throat.

"Oliver, don't!" Felicity cried. "Not for me."

It occurred to him that this was a stupid thing for her to say. He would do anything for her, did she not know that? Then the Count was talking again, telling Felicity to be quiet and demanding that Oliver lower his bow. Try as he might, he could see no other option. He knew from experience that the Count liked to keep pure Vertigo in the syringes like the one in his hand. He had felt the effects of it first hand, and it hadn't even been a full dose. Felicity was smaller, and he was certain that she would die before he could help her.

Even as he dropped his arrow to the ground, he had a feeling that it wasn't going to matter. The Count was not moving to jab that needle in her neck, and he would lose her. He had stayed away from her to protect her, and he was going to lose her anyway. Still he had to try. Could you reason with a mad man? "Your problem is with _me_," Oliver ground out. "It's not with her."

As he said it, the Count turned his head and nuzzled Felicity, eyes on Oliver to see his reaction. Oliver's muscles coiled, knowing that if he had a chance, it was coming in the very, very near future. "Well then, consider this your penalty for making me go to Plan B in the first place," the Count said calmly, swinging his hand back so that he could jam the syringe in Felicty's neck.

_Woosh, woosh, woosh. _In quick succession, Oliver shot three arrows into the Count. It was enough, much to Oliver's relief. The syringe fell to the side of the Count, and he stumbled backward toward the glass windows. For one horrible, indescribable moment, Oliver thought the Count would tighten his grip on Felicity and take her back with him, but the force of the arrows entering him was enough to push him back and away from her. As he fell through the window, Oliver exhaled in relief.

He closed his eyes and took a moment to calm down. To process, so that he wouldn't do anything rash. She was safe. The Count was dead. Felicity lay on the floor, where she had fallen next to the table, but she was safe.

He knelt down next to her. At his touch, she jumped a bit. "Hey," he whispered to her. "Hey, shh, it's okay. You're safe." He touched her shoulder gently, and felt her grasp his wrist.

She met his eyes, and their gazes held. He felt another rush of relief as it sunk it that she truly wasn't hurt, just scared. Her eyes drifted to Oliver's arm, seeing the tear in his jacket and the blood oozing from it. "You're shot!"

"Hey, it's nothing," he said, moving his hand to her cheek. Her hand covered his, and again their gazes locked. He felt as if they had an entire conversation in that moment. Words that couldn't be said, because they couldn't be felt, in order to keep her safe.

Except, she hadn't been safe. She was now, but only thanks to a combination of luck and skill. He thought again of all that _could_ have happened in the time it had taken him to get there, and he had to stand before he did something incredibly stupid like pull her into his arms. He walked to the window, making sure that the Count was, in fact, dead. He saw his body, and heard Tommy's voice. _Murderer._ Surely Tommy would forgive him this one . . . it had been a choice between killing the Count or losing Felicity, and there had really been no choice to make.

Police cars were already arriving on scene. He turned back to Felicity, who had stood up and looked as if she was trying to compose herself. "We have to go," he said apologetically.


	2. Escape

_AN: Treat . . . 2 chapters in 1 day. I already have most of this written in my head, just a matter of getting it on paper. This one is shorter. Enjoy!_

Chapter 2: Escape

"We have to go," Oliver said apologetically.

Felicity nodded, then turned back to his office. "My keys. They are on your desk."

He grabbed them off his desk and they headed toward the elevator. Digg had taken care of the security cameras in the corridors he had used to come it. It would have been hard to explain away Feleicty's keys on his desk. He was amazed that she thought of it, after all she had been through.

In the elevator, he watched her as she leaned against the wall, eyes closed, composing herself with deep calming breaths. The elevator dinged as they reached the third floor. She balked as he motioned for her to exit the elevator. "He left my car in the garage on the second floor, Oliver."

"I'm pretty sure by now the police will notice if we drive out through the garage. Plus, I have no intention of letting you drive yourself right now."

"But you need to get back to your Mom's trial," she said matter-of-factly. "What's happening there anyway? Or what was happening before you left?"

"Please, Felicity, we need to go," he said, gesturing again for her to leave the elevator. He couldn't believe she was worrying about his mother's case when she had just been kidnapped and nearly killed. He remembered her words to him when he came back from the island the second time, as she had chewed him out for not realizing Digg and Carly had split. She had basically said he was self absorbed. No one could ever say such a thing about her.

She sagged a bit in what appeared to be relief. "Well, since you said please," she said with a half smile. "Although, really it's a good thing. I don't think I could handle being alone in my car after being in it with _him_. Maybe it's time for a new car. Not to mention I can't seem to stop shaking and I can't imagine trying to drive . . . " She trailed off, realizing she was rambling.

He realized that if she was going to ride with him on his bike, he would need to stash his bow and quiver. It would be hard for her to hold on to him with both of those on his back. They entered a janitorial room, and he pulled a bin that he knew was never used from under the sink. He placed his gear in it, with plans of coming for it after the jury handed down his mother's verdict. He reached to unzip his jacket.

"Oliver," Felicity said, "What are you doing?"

"I'm not letting someone else see you with the Arrow," he said. It was bad enough that the Count had used her against him. The last thing he needed was other enemies figuring out they could do the same thing.

"It would be worse for Oliver Queen to be seen gallivanting on a motorcycle during a critical point in his mother's trial." She was still shaking, but less so, and it was obvious to Oliver that her mind was becoming more focused by the minute.

"Fine," he said, zipping his jacket back up. "Come on." He took her elbow and steered her toward stairwell used by maintenance to access the street. His bike was waiting outside the door. He took his helmet, and considered holding it out to her.

"Nuh uh," she said. "Wearing the hood doesn't do any good at all if they can still see your face, Mr. Queen." Of course. He should have known better.

She climbed on behind him, tentatively wrapping her arms around him. He smiled a bit, thinking of the time in the elevator shaft at Merlyn Global. "Hold on tight," he quipped, gunning the engine. Her arms tightened around him, and she buried her face into his back. He could swear that he felt her smile in to his back, and knew that she was remembering too.

As he drove, he called Digg on his Bluetooth, asking him to meet them at the door to the basement entrance, if he was able. Then he allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of Felicty's arms wrapped around him, her face pressed in to his back, and the speed of the bike as they rushed through the city. He was alive, and she was alive, and for the moment that was all that mattered. Too soon, they arrived at Verdant's alley. She was off the bike as soon as he stopped. Digg was waiting, and she flew into his arms for a hug. Part of Oliver was jealous that they could share physical contact so easily.

"I've got her," Digg reassured Oliver, looking better than he had since this morning. "Go to your family."

Oliver nodded, and sped off without a word. He thought about the ease with which Felicity had ran into Digg's arms. He thought about how she had kissed his cheek in Russia. With Oliver, she kept her distance. He often got the sense that she wanted to reach out to him, but wasn't sure how he would receive it. There had been times, since his return, that he had been shocked by her touching him . . . when she had poked him in the chest during her furious rant about her new position; when she lectured him about being self-absorbed in the lair. He certainly avoided touching her. He had thought of her too often on Lian Yu. He was afraid that if he allowed himself to touch her, he may never be able to stop. Something had been different between them since he returned, and he wasn't sure why that was.

Then he was back at the courthouse, and it was time to slip back into his suit and his job as concerned son.


	3. Night

Chapter 3: Night

Felicity unlocked her apartment door, then stepped back so that John Diggle could go inside and give the all clear. He'd slid into what she liked to refer to as "protection mode" when they had arrived at her apartment in Oliver's Bentley, bossing her around and telling her exactly how he was going to deliver her to her apartment. She knew he meant well. It _had _been a rather unusual night. And as annoying as it could be being surrounded by protective alpha males, tonight it definitely made her feel better.

"All clear," Diggle said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You gonna be okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah, go. You've had a rough day today, too."

"Oliver or I will pick you up in the morning so you can get your car." She grimaced at that. She really didn't care if she ever saw the inside of her Mini Cooper again. She thought of those terrifying moments as she drove toward Queen Consolidated with the count pointing a gun in her face.

But Oliver had come, and saved her, just as she had known he would. Even though it had cost him dearly. He had killed again, and she knew that every life took an incredible toll on him. She heard his voice again—the words he had spoke earlier in the evening, as he had grasped her hand and looked directly into her eyes. "_Felicity. He had you and was going to hurt you. There was no choice to make." _She hoped that he meant it. He seemed to be beating himself up less lately, since Sarah had left, and maybe that meant he was finally coming to terms with all of it. She hoped that was true—the man had faced enough pain in his life without the pain he managed to inflict on himself.

She said goodnight to Digg and shut the door, leaning against it. What a day. She really needed to figure out how to _not _get herself in to trouble. Landmines, mob bosses, drug dealers . . . she was lucky Oliver hadn't cut his losses and sent her packing. But then, no one could hack quite like she could, so she supposed she was safe. Safe-ish. Well, Oliver would keep her safe, even if she couldn't manage to keep _herself _safe. But she would work on that last bit, because she couldn't always expect him to sweep in and rescue her.

She looked down at her hands and saw the ugly bruises forming on her wrists where the Count had zip tied her to the chair. She shut her eyes against the flood of fear that came with remembering what had happened. Shower, wine, sleep. That was what she needed. She headed toward the bathroom, turning on some music as she went. Being alone with her own thoughts really didn't sound that appealing at present.

Xxx

Oliver headed down the stairs when he heard his mother come in. She was much later than he had expected her to be. He smiled at her, pulling her in for a hug. "Welcome home, Mom!" She seemed to only half heartedly return his hug, and he pulled back to really look at her. Her face was pale and drawn. She met his gaze, and he wasn't sure what he saw in her eyes, but it wasn't good. "What's wrong? I thought you would be in the mood to celebrate."

She took a shaky breath. "I am just tired. And there is nothing to celebrate. 503 people are still dead."

Oliver noticed Thea standing in the hall, watching them and looking confused. He met her gaze, then looked back at their mother.

She gave him a half hearted smile and patted his cheek. "This day has taken too much out of me. You'll forgive me if I just go lay down, right? It's been five months since I have slept in my own bed, and right now nothing sounds better than that."

"Of course," Thea said, hugging her mother. She looked at Oliver again, then took linked arms with their mom. "Can I walk you up?"

Oliver watched them go, unsure of what had just happened. And now he found himself with nothing to do. It was only ten pm, an early night by Arrow standards. But what a day it had been. He considered going back to the Foundry to work out, but discarded the idea almost immediately. For one, his arm was still bleeding, which was more of an annoyance than anything. But he also needed to be here in case his mother needed him. He usually avoided down time at all costs. Down time meant too much time to think. Thinking never led to anything good.

He went to his room and stretched on his bed. He wondered how Felicity was doing. He thought about texting her to check in, but decided against it. If he was going to sleep, he needed to think about something _other_ than how close things had been to going the other way tonight. He decided instead to think about how it had felt to have her on his bike with him. He hadn't ridden with a woman on a motorcycle in over six years. He could still feel her arms banded around him, holding tight; her chest pressed against him back and her face tucked against him. Much to his surprise, sleep found him in record time.

He knew that he was dreaming, but it didn't make the events any less horrifying. He was back in the office with the Count and Felicity. And because he didn't have happy dreams, he only had nightmares, he knew that this was going to be bad. He could hear the Count's voice. _"Oliver. The Hood. Ipso facto, ARROW!" _The Count had Felicity by the hair along the windows. He drew back his hand to plunge the double syringe into her neck. Oliver reached back for an arrow, and found his quiver empty. The Count smiled at him as the needles pierced her skin. "NO!" he cried.

_"Turns out, someone else hates you too . . . You'll be surprised."_

He saw the look of horror in Felicity's eyes when his gaze met hers. The Count released her and she crumpled to the ground. The Count laughed, then headed toward the door. "Now it's your turn to suffer," he laughed. These were the first words that Oliver had heard in the Count's voice that were not actual memories. But he couldn't think about the Count now, because Felicity was dying. She was dying in front of him and there was absolutely nothing he could do.

He reached her where she lay on the ground and pulled her head into his lap. Her face was contorted in pain, but he could tell she was trying hard not to cry out. He took her hand. "Felicity . . . " he choked out.

She took a deep, pained breath. "Not . . ." and another. "Not your fault." Her hand found his face. It was shaking heavily, so he used his own hand over hers to keep it there. "Not me. Not . . . " Another gasp for breath. She shouldn't be able to do anything other than writhe in pain. "Not Tommy." And then she screamed, because the pain became too much. And Oliver knew there would be no escaping this loss. He had already fled to the island once. He would not be able to run far enough to escape the gaping wound he could already feel forming in his chest as Felicity quieted and took her last breaths.

_"Oliver. The Hood. Arrow. Someone else hates you, too."_

Oliver gasped as he sat up in bed, covered in sweat. The clock by his bedside read two am. _Someone else hates you, too_. Oliver hadn't thought much about what the Count had said, with everything that had happened. Had the Count told his unknown partner what he had deduced about the Arrow's identity? If so, Felicity could still be in very real danger. This realization sent a knife of fear through him, dangerously close to that hole he had felt when she had died in his arms in the dream.

He was out of bed and headed down the hall before he even realized what he was doing. He opened his mother's door, and saw her and Thea sleeping side by side, hands intertwined. They wouldn't even know he was gone. As he headed out the door, minutes later, he told himself he would simply check on her. Make sure she was still safe. Nothing more.


	4. Decision

_AN: Thank you all for the reviews, favorites and follows. Its possible this story is getting away from me, because there is still a LOT ahead. Angst is coming. Consider yourself warned._

Chapter 4: Decision

Oliver was surprised to see a light on Felicity's apartment. He was glad that he had decided to wear the hood. He leapt up the fire escape of the building across from Felicity's until he was able to get a clear view of her apartment through the window. He saw her curled on the couch, covered in a blanket and wearing pink pajamas. She was holding a cup, and he guessed that she was drinking tea. She looked tired and troubled, even from this distance.

He watched her for a long time, losing track of time. He knew that he should go. He could see that she was safe for tonight. He would talk to Digg in the morning and figure out what to do about this whole situation. But then something happened that stopped his breath. Felicity was at the window, looking in to the night. He thought of all the nights he had watched Laurel through her window. Never once did she look out into the night. He knew he shouldn't. But, _christ,_ he had to.

He worked his way down to street level, and then up toward her balcony. He hoped he wouldn't scare her, showing up suddenly on her balcony. Because the Arrow couldn't exactly walk in to her building and knock on her door.

Xxx

Felicity hadn't slept long before the nightmares had found her. She finally gave up. Going without sleep had to be better than reliving her time with the Count, with various twists in which Oliver didn't come, or died, or wasn't there in time. And even though she had scrubbed her hair at least five times in the shower, she could _not _wash away the feeling of the Count playing with it, then fisting his hand in it as he pushed her toward the windows. She made tea and read for awhile, but at some point she had just started staring in to space. Eventually she wandered to the window, peering into the night. It was silly, but she almost felt as if she was being watched. Probably just the paranoia that came from being abducted by a drug pushing nut-job. She went to the kitchen to pour more tea.

When she re-entered the room, she glanced at her balcony, and almost screamed when she saw the hooded figure there. Immediately, though, she realized it was Oliver. She rushed to the door and threw it open. "What's wrong? What's happened?" He didn't respond at first, just stood there, his hood hiding his face. "Oliver? What is it?" She whispered, fear clogging her throat.

She moved aside, hoping he would come in. He did, but for some reason he didn't turn. "Um, you are scaring me," she whispered. She gently reached for his shoulder and turned him. Reaching up, she lowered his hood.

"I should _not_ be here," he whispered, meeting her eyes. She nearly gasped at the pain she saw in his eyes. The last time she had seen him look like this was when he had sat at the Foundry, telling her and Digg that Sarah Lance was alive. She did now what she had done then. She stepped back and wrapped her arms tightly around herself, lest she reach out and touch him.

"Is your family okay?" He nodded once, his eyes falling to the floor. She watched his jaw clench and unclench almost like he was fighting a battle with himself. "Digg?" She asked. He nodded again, and she felt the tightness leave her chest. This was something else. Maybe this was because he had been forced to kill someone.

"Why aren't you asleep?" he whispered.

"Oh. Um. Dreams. Not the happy kind." His eyes met hers then. "Why aren't you at home?"

He smiled, and took one step toward her. "Dreams." He repeated, the pain naked in his eyes. "Not the happy kind."

She wanted to reach out to him, but knew it wouldn't be welcome. But he had come _here_. He wouldn't have come if . . . she lost the argument with herself quickly and took two quick strides to close the space between them. She placed her hand on his face. "They were just dreams, Oliver." She wasn't sure if she was telling herself or him.

"Nightmares," he grated out, covering his hand with hers. "And _memories."_

"Of things that are in the past," she whispered.

He pulled her to him then, clutching her to his chest in a way that made her feel like something precious and loved. His chin rested on top of her head, and his hands threading through her hair and smoothing it. His fingers found her scalp and rubbed gently. She felt the tears come again. It occurred to her that they had never been this close, just for the sake of being close. She had touched him plenty when she was helping Digg save his life, and when he was saving hers (which was having to happen way to often), but this . . . this was different.

How long they stayed like that, she couldn't stay. But she felt the tension slowly leave him. Eventually he took her hand and pulled her toward the couch. He sat in one corner, tucking her in to his side. She felt safe, and immediately felt the weight of the previous day crush back in on her. Her eyes started to feel heavy. He continued to play with her hair, washing away the disgusting feeling that she hadn't been able to remove with soap and replacing it with warmth. She placed her hand over his heart, feeling the steady beat there.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?"

"Coming for me." She wasn't sure if she meant now or then.

"I'll always come for you," he whispered intensely, and she wondered if maybe if she was still dreaming.

The index finger of the hand she held over his heart dipped under his jacket and t-shirt to find the scar left by his mother's bullet. Her eyes felt heavier, and she gave up on the battle. "'s too bad, you know. About the mini."

"Hmm?"

"It's where you first showed me who you really are."

Xxx

Oliver smiled, finding it utterly ridiculous that she had fond memories of finding him bleeding in the back of her car.

Her breathing evened out almost instantly, and he knew that she was asleep. He felt a sense of rightness that he hadn't felt in . . . he didn't even know. Then he glanced down at her hand, where her fingers laid over the scar on his chest. Her fine, unmarred alabaster skin next to his scars created quite the contrast. Then he looked at the deep purple bruises on her wrists, and remembered why he had come in the first place. Because she was in danger. Simply from knowing him. He had thought that by keeping her close at the office, he was simplifying things. But thanks to Isabel Rochev, he now knew that the entire company thought they were sleeping together. All it would take was a single person sharing that information with an enemy. It didn't even have to be an enemy of the Arrow. An enemy of Oliver Queen could do just as much damage. He would _not _be responsible for scarring her anymore than he already had.

He took advantage of the time that she slept to study her features and enjoy the feeling of being close to her while he could. Because after tomorrow, she would be out of his life.


	5. Seperation

Chapter 5: Seperation

Around five am, Oliver slid out from under Felicity, lowering her gently down on to the couch. He smoothed her hair and pulled a blanket over her. He wished that there was another way. He wanted this, wanted _her_. But it would be too selfish of him to keep her in his life. She would get hurt. She would die. And that burden was entirely too much for him to bear. Unable to help himself, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

He went to Queen Consolidated next, picking up her car and driving it to her leasing company. He called Digg to drive him back to the mansion. Digg eyed him warily as he got in the car. "What's going on Oliver? You look like hell."

Oliver felt his shoulders sag under the weight of what had to happen today. "You were right, you know, Digg."

"About what this time?"

"You'll understand." Oliver turned to look at him. "Can you promise me something?"

Digg raised an eyebrow, looking at Oliver out of the corner of his eye as he drove.

"I need you to understand that what happens today, has to be done. And I need you to promise me you'll have my back."

"Come on, Oliver, you have to give me more than that."

Oliver sighed. If he told Diggle his plan, he was pretty sure he would fight him. But at the same time, he deserved an answer. "Just trust me."

Diggle shook his head. "Fine, you have my word. You have my back and I have yours."

"Okay then." Oliver took a deep breath, closing his eyes and trying hard to keep the emotion off his face for this next bit. "After you drop me off, I need you to pick up Felicity. Take her to the place she leases her car from and let her pick out whatever she wants. Bill the difference to me. Keep her out of the office until after lunch." That would give him enough time to take care of the other things that needed to be done.

Digg shrugged. "Whatever you say, Oliver."

Oliver gave an inward sigh of relief. Digg wasn't connecting one question to the other.

After Diggle dropped him at the office, Oliver called his sister to let her know he was required at work. There was police tape across his office, something he hadn't considered. At least he could get to Felicity's desk. He found a box and slowly boxed up her things, trying not to think about what he was doing. He had planned to have this conversation here in the office, where she would be less likely to fight him, but he had forgotten about the gaping hole in the glass. Coming back to the office would serve to remind her of what had happened.

He felt a knife in his gut, as the darker side of him suggested that perhaps being back in his office was _exactly _what she needed. He picked up the phone and dialed the SCPD to find out how long until they would remove the crime scene tape. When he hung up, he sat in Felicty's chair, scrubbing his hands over his face. He couldn't believe he was going to drag her back up here, play off her fear, and push her out of his life.

Xxx

Felicity froze in her footsteps as she got her first view of Oliver's office after stepping off the elevator on their floor. She felt Diggle's hand on her shoulder. "Dammit," he groaned. "It's okay Felicity." She swallowed back her irrational fear and nodded, taking in the scene before her. A huge sheet of plastic covered the window the Count had fallen through. The sofa had been removed. Thankfully, so had the chair she had been strapped to.

Oliver was sitting behind his desk, talking on the phone. He looked up saw her, then closed his eyes suddenly. She was shocked when he turned his chair away from her without opening them. She looked questioningly at Digg. By the odd look on his face, it was clear that Digg had noticed too.

Her shock over the state of the office was forgotten when she saw her desk. Her personal items had been collected and tucked neatly inside a box. Her stomach dropped somewhere in the vicinity of her feet. She flashed a panicked look at Digg. "He wouldn't!" She cried.

Oh, no. Diggle looked stoic. She whirled away from him and stomped in to Oliver's office.

"My things!" She cried, unable to find anything else to say. She pointed, and stomped her foot. The second she did it, she realized she sounded like a school girl.

"I'll have to call you back," Oliver said into the phone. Then he _finally _turned his chair and met her eyes.

She did not like what she saw. His eyes were cold. She was looking at Oliver Queen, CEO. Not Oliver, her friend. Not the man she knew. She was seeing the face he put on for the people who didn't know him.

"NO," she said. "You wouldn't! You can't!"

He came out from behind his desk, his hand raised as if he was getting ready to make a business pitch. "There is an IT management position waiting for you in Capitol City. Something more becoming for a person with degree from MIT. And an apartment."

She knew her mouth was hanging open, but she couldn't seem to get any words out. He was sending her away. She had never, ever considered that he would do such a thing. "I . . . But. . . "

"Your services are no longer needed. _Any _of your services."

She raised her hands, trying to find something to say. They fisted, and she unfisted them, pointing back to her office, pointing to the window, pointing to him. For all that was holy, _why_ couldn't she get a single coherent thought out.

"It's my decision, my choice, and it's final," he said.

"But Oliver," she whispered, searching his eyes.

His jaw clenched. She could swear she saw pain flash in his eyes, but then he looked down at the floor, and when he looked back up, they were cold again. Her stomach sunk again and she knew exactly what this was.

"You are a _liability_." He said. "A risk I am no longer willing to take."

"It's not for you to decide!" She tried to argue, but she knew it was useless. His mind was made up.

"It is, and I have." She closed her eyes. This was happening. He was trying to act like it was nothing, but she knew him better. She had seen that edge of pain. This was costing him.

She stepped in to his space, raising a single fisted hand. She wanted to punch him. She wanted to yell and scream, but she knew it wouldn't do any good. She pressed her fist into his chest. "Damn you, Oliver, for saying it in such a way that I can't even argue my side." His jaw clenched again, and his eyes were on her hand. She spread her fingers then, so that her palm way laying open over his heart. "But I still know you are a good man, and I still think you deserve better." His eyes flew to her, and they were _his _eyes again, laced with pain and a thousand things he wanted to say and couldn't. That sight tore at her, and she turned before she completely lost it in front of him.

"Goodbye, Ms. Smoak." He called after her.

She would not say goodbye. This was not goodbye. She would not be one of his noble sacrifices. She grabbed her box of personal belongings and headed for the elevator.


	6. Reasons

Chapter 6: Reasons

Felicity made it into the elevator before a strangled sob escaped her. She covered her mouth, choking back the tears. She inhaled, closing her eyes and willing herself to be composed. She turned and leaned against the wall, then was surprised to see she was not alone. Diggle pressed the ground floor button as the doors closed.

"You knew," she said, more accusingly than she had intended.

"Not really," Digg sighed. "He said some cryptic stuff in the car this morning, but I had no idea this is what he was thinking."

"You have to talk to him!" She cried, then closed her eyes again. This was entirely too much after the day she had yesterday.

"It won't do any good, Felicity. I've tried to talk sense in to him before, and it never works. His mind his made up."

"Well, his mind comes up with some dumb stuff sometimes." She realized she sounded like a petulant child, and she didn't really care.

The corner of Digg's mouth lifted in a half smile. He sobered quickly though, taking her in. "You almost died yesterday, Felicity. It was bound to have an effect on him."

"Yeah, some effect. Yay, you didn't die! Get out of my life." Digg simply regarded her. She watched the number tick down as the elevator descended. 10 . . . 9 . . . "I didn't die, Digg. I wasn't even hurt that badly. I can try to be more careful, and you can keep trying to teach me to fight."

Digg put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You know it's not my choice. In the end, it's his. It was his choice to bring you in to this, and now he has decided the stakes are too high."

"What about _my_ choice?" 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . Diggle didn't respond. "You know what Digg, thanks for having my back. Oh, wait. Never mind. Just." She inhaled, eyes closed again. "Just keep him safe, okay? Don't let him get any further inside his head."

"Felicity . . ." Diggle looked suddenly apologetic.

"Just don't, okay. I'll be in touch, John. And I can see myself out." The elevator dinged for the lobby, and she headed out without a backward glance. It was just her life, and the closest thing she'd had to a family in a long time. No big deal. She made it all the way to her car without losing it completely.

Xxx

Oliver heard Digg come back into the office. He was sitting in his chair, his head in his hands. That had been excruciating. He had expected many things, but he certainly hadn't expected her to get in his space and tell him she _still _believed in him. How in the hell could she still believe in him, when he had just treated her like she was just another employee. Instead of one of the two people in this entire world he could trust with his secrets.

"This was the best solution you could come up with?" Digg said, shutting the door as he came in.

Oliver held up a hand in warning, not raising his head. "Don't, Diggle. I didn't have a choice." Diggle started to speak, and Oliver cut him off. "You were right, back when she first joined us. We were asking her to get involved in some dangerous things, and I thought I could protect her, but I _can't_. It was too close yesterday." He had stood up and paced behind his desk. "I won't lose her, Digg. She is safer away from me, and away from Starling City."

"And what about us, Oliver?" Diggle asked.

Oliver didn't understand. "Come again?"

"What are we supposed to do without her. What are _you _supposed to do without her? You can't pretend you don't care about her."

Oliver shook his head, turning toward one of the windows that wasn't covered in plastic. It was starting to rain. "It doesn't matter how I feel about it. And we'll get along without her the same way we did before she joined us."

"You mean, when we still brought her presents in syringes and 'games' to decode?" DIggle asked incredulously. Oliver glared at him, but Digg continued. "Newsflash, Oliver. You never did this job without her. In fact, I'm pretty sure you went to her for help before I did."

"It doesn't matter." Oliver ground out. "It's done. If you don't like it, you know where the door is. I did this without either of you, once. I can do it again." Even as he said it, he felt the emptiness begin. It had been so much less overwhelming once he had the two of them on his side. As it was, he couldn't imagine doing what he did without Felicity. But he was going to have to get used to it. Because, as he had told Digg, it was done. The empty feeling was a small price to pay for knowing she would be safe.

Xxx

Felicity growled in frustration as she tried to put her code in at the Foundry's back entrance and was again met with a red light. He had changed the code. So much for her plan to go there and wait him out. She would go back to her apartment, except there were _movers_ packing her things into a truck. She had gone from being sad and hurt by Oliver's decision to downright furious at his high handedness. He had covered all of his bases, and she had no choice but to do as he said. She could show up at the Queen Mansion, but she couldn't even imagine what she could say to change his mind. As Diggle had pointed out, there was no changing Oliver Queen's mind once it was made up.

She would do as he asked. But she was be damned if she would give up on him coming to his senses.

_Just One more moment, that's all that's needed._  
_Like wounded soldiers in need of healing._  
_Time to be honest, this time I'm pleading_  
_Please don't dwell on it, cause I didn't mean it._

_I cant believe I said I'd lay our love on the ground_  
_But it doesn't matter cause I've made it up forgive me now_  
_Everyday I spend away my soul's inside out_  
_Gotta be someway that I can make it up to you now, somehow._

_~Nickleback_

_AN: Thanks all for the great reviews. Glad everyone is enjoying it as much as I am. Should be another chapter or two tomorrow. _


	7. Time Passes

_AN: Thanks again all for the reviews/follows/favorites, glad you are enjoying the story. Yes, Oliver is being a high handed male chauvinist pig, lol. But in his mind he's doing the noble thing (and the thing that he can live with). And to answer Marc, yes, Felicity could hack Verdant's security system IF she had her computer, which she didn't. But that's coming. Very soon. So, onward._

Chapter 7: Time Passing

Oliver opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling over his bed. He glanced at the clock. Five in the morning. He sighed. He'd come home at three. Three hours of sleep was sad, even by his near-insomnia standards. Today was December 14th. It had been 24 days since he had sent Felicity away. Not that he should be keeping track. But it had been a _long_ 24 days. Thanksgiving and come and gone without any acknowledgement. He hadn't expected the empty feeling in his chest to be quite this excruciating. He had expected to miss her. What he hadn't expected was for every aspect of his life to fall apart the moment she left. His mother hardly ever left the house. She seemed unable to cope with something, but wouldn't talk to him or Thea about what was going on. His mother had been slipping even deeper the closer they came to today. Today was the anniversary of Walter's abduction, and it seemed to take his mother deeper into whatever hole of guilt she was burying herself in. As close as he could figure, Walter's abduction symbolized the point at which she started truly losing control over her life.

What he couldn't believe is that a year ago, Felicity was nothing more than a footnote in his existence. A random QC employee he occasionally sought for help. In the end, it had been Walter's abduction that had spurred her to bring him his mother's copy of the list. _Can I trust you? _He closed his eyes as he remembered her words from that January afternoon. _You've fed me some fairly ridiculous stories and I still feel like I can trust you. Why do you suppose that is?_ He had known he could trust her when he had climbed into her car, barely clinging to consciousness. She had been an active player in his life for less than a year, and he had been gone for five months of that, and yet her absence hurt as much now as it had 24 days ago when he had forced her out of his life.

He missed her. He couldn't allow himself to think of it often, because it only twisted the knife in his already ragged chest, but it didn't change the fact that he did. He missed the brightness she brought to the Foundry, and the way she always managed to pull him back when he got too far inside his own head. He missed the way she acted as a buffer between him and Digg. Things had been strained between the two of them. He knew that Diggle did not agree with his decision to send Felicity away, but he didn't say anything. He simply regarded Oliver with a disappointed look from time to time. Occasionally, he would comment that things would be faster if they had someone who was handier with computers around. But he never mentioned Felicity's name.

And then there was his work as the Arrow. He had been out almost every night since Felicity had left, but for every criminal he left for the police, five more seemed to appear. He threw himself into his work whole-heartedly. It was the only time that he felt the pain of Felicity's absence less acutely. He could see in Diggle's eyes that he thought Oliver was becoming reckless. True, it seemed he was stitching himself back together a lot more lately, but there was so much violence in Starling City these days.

Oliver worked himself to the bone. In the office, in the hood, and on the mats. He barely slept, and when he did, he still dreamed, no matter how tired he was. He wasn't sure what was worse—the memory-dreams of the island, dreams that ended with blood on his hands, or the dreams of what could have been. Those last dreams made him feel the most off balance . . . he would wake up feeling as if he was flying, because she was in his life again and he no longer felt like he was drowning in a sea of burdens and guilt. In his dreams, he could touch her and he didn't have to say what he was feeling, because she knew. On those nights, the waking was far more painful that the dreaming.

He knew that he was a ghost of the man he had been a month ago. His sister noticed. She rarely came home anymore. At first, she had spent a great deal of energy trying to pull both him and their mother out of their respective holes. She failed as miserably with Moira as she did with Oliver, and eventually she gave up. She stayed with Roy Harper most nights after working at Verdant, and for once Oliver was glad that the kid was around to keep her busy. And to keep her away, because he was so tired of trying to answer what was wrong. At least in the Foundry, he never needed to answer those questions, because Diggle knew exactly what was wrong with him. But it didn't matter, because she was safe. She had to be settled in to her job in Capitol City by now. Of course, he had no way of knowing that, because he hadn't seen or heard from her since the day he had pushed her forcibly out of his life.

He groaned and rolled out of his bed, knowing that he couldn't afford to be still and think for a moment longer. He had an entire empty Saturday ahead of him, despite his best efforts to make plans. It seemed he had no one to make plans with these days. He didn't want to be around Diggle, who knew exactly what was wrong with him. He didn't want to be around his sister, who kept asking what was wrong. _He _couldn't figure out what was wrong with his mother. Laurel never returned his calls. Their already complicated friendship seemed to have been dealt a death blow by his mother's trial. He didn't hold a grudge, but she couldn't seem to forgive herself. He should be around for a little while this morning, for his mother. So escaping to the Foundry was out of the question for now. He would go for a run to clear his head, spend some time with his mother, and then escape the house for the day.

Xxx

He wasn't entirely sure how it happened, but four hours later, he was in his car. And his car was headed to Capitol City. He had gone for a run, taken a shower, attempted to get his mother to join him for breakfast. He had headed out with the intention of going to Verdant, but here he was on the interstate. Heading where he knew he shouldn't go, and where he desperately wanted to be. He wanted to make sure she was settling in okay. He would watch her from his car and make sure that she didn't see him. She probably didn't even _want_ to see him. He had been incredibly high handed in the way he had sent her away. His gave a half hearted smile as he thought about how pissed she must have been when she got to her apartment and found movers packing it up. And the smile was gone, because the more he thought about it, the more he was worried she really wouldn't forgive him.

_NO._ He reminded himself. It didn't matter if she forgave him. Because she wasn't coming back, and _he _wasn't going to let her see him . . . no matter how much he missed her, there was still the little factoid that being near him was highly likely to get her killed at some point in the near future.

It was a good fourty-five minutes before he pulled up in front of her apartment building. He had never been here before, but he had picked it out for her on that faithful day. He parked on the street, rolling down his window. He pulled a baseball cap low over his face and leaned back in the seat, looking up to the balcony he knew was hers. It was a beautiful, crisp winter morning. Capitol City lacked the air of desperation that seemed to permeate Starling City. He allowed his mind to drift, and think about how she spent her days, as a "simple IT girl" as she had once called it. He imagined she loved her management position, where she presumably would not have to answer to a superior who was nowhere near as smart as she was.

He had lost all track of time when he saw movement on her balcony. She came out with a tablet, a cup of something warm, and a blanket. She wrapped herself up and sank into the chair on the balcony. He knew instantly that this was a mistake. As soon as he saw her, he went to open the car door. _No. No. No. She comes back. She dies. Sooner or later, you will not be able to keep her safe_. He fisted his hands on the steering wheel, willing himself to stay put. He turned his eyes back to the balcony and drank in the sight of her. She looked tired. She shouldn't look tired—she hadn't looked this tired when he worked her to the bone doing two jobs. Even if she put in fifteen hour days at her new company, she should still have more down time than she did in Starling City. Yet the shadows were there for him to see, even from three floors down.

She read for an hour before she went inside. He waited for another hour, just in case she left the building, but it never happened. When the urge to go knock on her door became nearly overwhelming, he started the car and headed for home. As he drove back to Starling City, he couldn't help but feel he was heading in the wrong direction.


	8. Gift

Chapter 8: Gift

After that disastrous trip to Capitol City, Oliver tried very hard not to let himself think of Felicity. The more he thought of her, the more the hole he felt in his chest grow. He remembered, quite vividly, a similar hole during the dream he had the night she was taken by the Count. The hole he felt he could never fill at the loss of her. He knew that if he continued to allow himself to think of her, he would start doubting his decision. He could not afford to do that. It _was _the right decision. He could not go back. She probably would not welcome him even if he did.

_Stop._

So he tried not to think of her. He worked harder, at everything. He slept even less than he had before. It all came crashing down on a Friday. It was the 20th of December. Christmas was coming soon, although his family had decided to ignore the occasion this year—too many bad memories on all sides. He and Diggle descended the steps at the Foundry, ready for a night of hard work. Oliver immediately felt something was off. The lights were on, and he was certain he had left them off in the wee hours of morning when he had left. He slowed his steps. There was a small package wrapped in green, with a silver bow, on Felicity's desk. He still thought of it as her desk, even though he knew he shouldn't.

He reached out and took the small box, looking questioningly at Diggle.

Digg raised his hands. "Don't look at me man. I don't have a clue."

He turned it over in his hands, considering.

"Maybe it's a bomb," Diggle deadpanned. Oliver looked at him, and was surprised to see the man was smiling.

Oliver raised an eyebrow.

Diggle looked like he was making a decision about something. He took a deep breath. "She said she 'might be dropping by.' I guess this is what she met." He looked at Oliver like he was waiting for him to start ranting.

Oliver felt the knife twist again. She had been here. She had hacked in to _bring him a present_. But she hadn't stayed. Why hadn't she stayed? Maybe she didn't want to see him. Maybe she thought he didn't want to see her. Who brings a Christmas present to a boss who fired them? To a friend who suddenly shoehorned that person out of his life? Apparently Felicity. He was pretty sure she was the only person who would do such a thing.

He was flooded with the memory of her the day he had sent her away. Even then, she had told him she understood. She had looked like she was considering punching him in the chest, had even poked him with her fist. But then she had spread her hand over his chest. _"But I still know you are a good man, and I still think you deserve better." _He closed his eyes against the still fresh pain.

Sinking into the chair, he opened his present. He tried to ignore the fact that his hands were shaking. Inside the shiny green paper was a small plane white box. He opened it. Inside there was a small golden pin. He put the box down and scrubbed his hands over his face. This was too much. She was too good. How could she bring him this, after everything. She brought this, left it, and then left.

Digg stepped up next to him, glancing in the box. "It looks like a Japanese symbol," he said.

Oliver closed his eyes and nodded. "It is."

Digg waited for him to go on. Oliver opened his eyes, scrubbed one hand again over his mouth, trying desperately to control all the emotions raging in him. Fear for her and anger at himself for bringing her in to this. He leaned and picked up the pin from the box, running his fingers over it. He felt the piercing pain in the hole in his gut, and an irrational anger at her for bringing him this.

"It says kibou." He ground out. It was a dangerous word, one that had the ability to bring him to his knees in a way that no enemy could. "It means hope."

He could feel Diggle's eyes on him, but he couldn't himself to look up. She wanted him to have hope. She hadn't stayed because she wasn't sure she would be welcome, or because she didn't to fight with him, or any one of a hundred reasons. But even after a month, she had still thought of him. She had wanted him to have hope. Did she know how hopeless everything seemed? It had always seemed hopeless, but so much worse since she left.

He could not afford to be hopeful. Hope was pain. If he was hopeful, he would let his guard down. Sooner or later his world would crash around him.

"We've got work to do," he said, grabbing the hood and heading to change. But before he left, he affixed the pin under the lapel of the green jacket, where it wouldn't be seen. It was positioned nearly on top of the scar from his mother's bullet. The same scar Felicity had run her fingers over that night a million years ago in her apartment.

He swallowed back the memory, pushing it down. Hope was a dangerous thing.

_My mind was closing, now I'm believing  
I finally know just what it means to let someone in  
To see the side of me that no one does or ever will  
So if you're ever lost and find yourself all alone  
I'd search forever just to bring you home,  
Here and now this I vow._

_By now you'd know that I'd come for you  
No one but you, yes I'd come for you  
But only if you told me to_

_~Nickleback_

_AN: So, yeah, you guys may hate me now. This chapter was painful to write. But that's why I fell in love with Oliver in the first place-he has so much pain that he carries around, so of course he's going to have it here in spades. Felicity's point of view is coming next. Thank you for the reviews! I read each and every one, and while I do not respond individually (because I am too freaking busy trying to get this story out of my head), they are like happy little bits of joy! Maybe one more chapter tonight, I'm a few ahead now but tomorrow is going to be busy and I want to save some of it for then. If you don't hate me after this, you may by then. Rest assured I *am* a HEA kind of girl.  
_


	9. Off Balance

Chapter 9: Off Balance

Felicity curled her feet under her and looked at the small Christmas tree in the corner of the room. She toyed with the phone in her hands. She put it down and picked up her coffee, taking a sip. She wished it wasn't Christmas morning, so she could go to the office instead of having an entire day on her hands with nothing to do. Her life had been reduced to fourteen hour work days, a single hour long self defense lesson every night, and countless hours staring at her walls. She missed the sense of _purpose_ she had felt while working with Oliver and Digg. Even the "emergencies" at her new job were far from the life and death situations she had become accustomed too. Dear God, who would have thought. Felicty Smoak, adrenaline junkie.

She put the coffee down and picked the phone back up. She dialed Diggle.

"Merry Christmas, John," she said when he picked up.

"Hey you. Merry Christmas back."

She had been calling Diggle at least once a week, since Oliver had sent her away. She got tired of trying to gleen information from the news, and decided it was less exhausting to go to the source. She didn't have any intention of trying to talk to Oliver. She imagined that would not go over well.

They made small talk about the weather and their plans for the day.

"So . . . " she said lamely.

"He's the same, Felicity." Diggle said.

That wasn't good. Diggle had told her, shortly after Oliver had sent her away, that Oliver was acting more like he had in the beginning, when he had first come home from the island. He didn't confide in Diggle, and he did very little outside of his work as CEO and the Arrow. Diggle had also kept her up to date on the strange state of affairs with Moira Queen. They had quietly discussed Oliver's theory that the verdict seemed like too good of news, and Felicity had poked around in the financials for the jurors, but had found nothing of note.

"He's wearing your gift, though," Digg added.

That, at least, was a good sign. The worst part of all of this was that she knew Oliver had to be hurting, and there was nothing that she could do about it. She could try and force her way back in to his life, but until he decided he would allow it, it would do no good.

"I'm so tired Digg," she said. "I just want to come home."

"I don't think he's ready yet."

"I know. I wish he'd hurry up. Stubborn idiot."

Digg chuckled. "Take care, Felicity."

"You too. I'll call on Sunday, like always."

"I would expect nothing less."

She hung up and clasped the cell phone between both her hands, looking at it. Before she lost her nerve, she dialed Oliver's number.

She was absolutely shocked when he actually picked up. She assumed he would send her straight to voicemail.

"Felicity," he said, just like he had in the past, when she had called to pass along a new piece of information. There was an edge to his voice that she couldn't decipher.

"Um, wow, you picked up," she fumbled. "Why did you pick up? I wasn't expecting you to pick up."

"Then why did you call?"

"Because it's Christmas, Oliver. I wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas."

"Thank you," he said. "And for the gift too. And for reminding me how woefully inept my security system is."

She laughed. She couldn't help herself. God, but it was good to hear his voice. This was more than she had hoped for. Maybe her gift had done more good than she had thought. "It's only useless against me," she joked.

The moment passed, and he was silent.

"Oliver . . . " she began.

"Please don't, Felicity," he whispered. She could hear his heart is his voice then—the pain and the regret. "I don't think I could bear it."

Her heart stopped. Never in a million years did she think he would speak about this out loud. "Then why are we doing this Oliver? " She closed her eyes, and said the words she was afraid would make him hang up. She said it as fast as she could, so that she could get it all out before he hung up on her. "I want to come home. I miss having purpose in my life. I miss Digg and I miss _you_."

She waited for the click, and it didn't come. She heard his ragged breathing on the other end of the line. "It has to be this way," he said finally. "You know why."

"NOT REALLY!" She yelled, surprising herself. "I really _don't _know why you are being so stupid! And this _is _stupid Oliver. You packed up my stuff and sent me away without even asking me what I thought. It was high handed and pretentious and I deserve more than that! I should have a say in what I do with my life!"

Silence. No click. No comment. Just silence.

"Are you still there?" She asked.

"Yes," he growled. " Are you done yet?"

"Um, if I say no, are you going to hang up on me?"

He snorted in to the phone. "Does it matter?"

The callous response made her close her eyes. "Of course it matters. If I had thought you would have listened to me, I would have called a long time ago. Maybe I wouldn't have even walked away when you told me to."

"You almost _died_, Felicity." When he said it, it was quiet.

"Yes," she agreed. "And you almost die pretty regularly. So what?"

"That's different . . . " he started.

"Not to me, Oliver." She closed her eyes again. If she was going for it, she may as well go all in. All of the cards on the table. "It matters. You matter. You sending me away, it doesn't change that."

More silence. She waited him out. "Maybe not," he finally answered. "But it keeps you safe. That's all that matters."

"Safe sucks," she said succinctly.

Amazingly, he chuckled. "Yes, it does, it would seem."

"Let me come home," she said. "Please, Oliver."

"No, Felicity."

"Please . . . " _God, was she begging? _She should have felt ashamed, but she didn't know how else to get through to him.

"I have to go."

"No!" She felt like a child, grasping for one last chance to see a cherished object.

"Merry Christmas, Felicity."

And then he was gone.

She threw the phone across the room. Stupid, noble, damaged, misguided, heroic, idiotic, incredible man. She let the tears come.


	10. Unexpected

Chapter 10: Unexpected

Oliver was adjusting his tie on Monday morning when Diggle strode into his room without knocking, a full twenty minutes before he was scheduled to pick Oliver up to go to Queen Consolidated for the day.

Oliver started to say something, but the look on Digg's face stopped him. "What's happened?" he asked.

Digg shook his head. "Not here. In the car."

Oliver was surprised when Digg opened the front passenger door for him, but didn't argue. As soon as Diggle was behind the wheel, Oliver turned toward him expectantly.

Digg glanced at Oliver, and pulled away from the mansion.

"Come on Digg," Oliver said.

Digg took a deep breath. "Felicity calls me to check in."

Oliver pursed his lips. Perhaps they were planning an intervention. His mind shifted back to that excruciating phone call five days ago. He never should have taken the call. She had been on his mind more than usual because of it.

"Stay out of it, Diggle." He said, for lack of a better response.

"No, Oliver. You don't understand."

Oliver was getting ready to tell his friend to stay _out _of his business, but then he looked at him and saw the worry lines over his brow. He saw the way Diggle was squeezing the wheel so hard that the skin on his knuckles was paling. Oliver's heart stopped, and he waited for Diggle to continue.

"She calls on Sundays to check in. She didn't call yesterday."

"Maybe she got busy," Oliver reasoned. His thumb found the pin under his collar on its own accord. _Hope_. "Maybe she finally decided to move on."

"No, Oliver. Something's wrong. She didn't return my messages."

An uneasy feeling started in the pit of Oliver's stomach. _Impossible_. He had sent her away to keep her safe. She was safe as long as she was away from him.

"Drive faster," Oliver commanded.

Digg nodded and floored it.

Xxx

They made the 45 minute drive in just under half an hour. Oliver's brain had started thinking of scenarios explaining Felicity's failure to check in. She ran over her phone with her car. She fell down and hurt herself . . . Okay, bad idea. Better to think of something else. So he focused on the moments she had managed to make him smile. He laid his head back, eyes closed, and played each on in his head. He willed Digg's gut to be wrong. She was fine. She was safe. Maybe she was sick, and she would look at them in confusion when they stormed in to her apartment.

_"You matter."_ How was he going to walk away from her once he knew she was okay? He wasn't sure he had the strength to do it again. Their phone conversation had steadily been eating away at his resolve. He remembered her yelling at him for making her decisions for her, and then the sadness in her voice as she _asked him_ to let her come back. After all that he had done, all that he was, she still wanted to come back. She had almost made it sound as if she wanted to come back _for him_.

Out of the blue, he remembered a random conversation with Diggle from a lifetime ago. He thought it was after the whole Helena disaster, but he couldn't be sure. _"You know Oliver, I'm no expert at this, but I don't think love is about changing or saving a person, I think it's about finding the person who's already the right fit. One day you will." _ He fingered the pin again. _Hope. _Felicity, who seemed willing to do anything he asked of her and more. She was the only woman in his life who saw him with all of his flaws and still wanted to be in his life. She knew what he was, and didn't call him a murderer, as Tommy had when he had learned his identity. Instead, she had once told Detective Lance that she would call him a hero. He swore to himself that if she was safe when they arrived in Capitol City, he would ask her what _she_ wanted.

When they finally pulled up to her apartment, Oliver was out of the car before it fully stopped. He took the stairs two at a time. He heard Digg pounding along to catch up with him. He knew her apartment number by heart, even though he had never visited it. When he reached her floor, he took a steadying breath. _She was fine. It was all fine._ He looked to see that Digg was with him, then headed toward her apartment at the end of the hall.

"Shit," Diggle said, drawing his gun. The door was slightly ajar.

Oliver's heart dropped out of his body.

He stepped to the door. Took a calming breath to sharpen his senses, then pressed the door open.

A quick glance around the foyer showed nothing out of the ordinary. A wall separated the main area of the apartment into two sections—a kitchen and dining area to the left and a living area to the right. Oliver nodded for Digg to go right as he went left.

The kitchen was pristine. Nothing looked out of place. From over the bar-style counter, Oliver could see Diggle freeze. "Oh no . . . "he said. Diggle was staring at something on the other side of the couch.

Oliver jumped over the counter. He braced himself, certain that he was about to see Felicity's broken body laying on the floor. He was by Digg in a second.

There was no blood; no Felicity. The living room looked as pristine as the kitchen had. For a brief moment, he failed to see what had inspired the look of abject horror on Diggle's face. Then he followed Digg's gaze, and saw the single black arrow sticking out of the table.

_AN: Soooo, this chapter was where this story was always headed. It just took a long time getting here. Anybody hate me yet? 'Cause I sort of hated myself after I wrote this. Poor Oliver!  
_


	11. Questions

_AN: Thanks all for the great reviews and all the love. I owe a response to some of you and will try to get to that tonight or tomorrow. _

Chapter 11: Questions

At some point Oliver became aware of the blood rushing in his ears. He realized he was sitting in the couch, turning the Dark Archer's arrow over in his hands. At some point he must have pulled it out of the table, although he couldn't remember doing it. He realized Diggle wasn't in the room, and figured the man was actually _doing something_. Oliver should probably be doing something too, but he couldn't seem to get up off the couch.

Did this arrow mean Malcolm Merlyn was alive? Or perhaps another archer trained by the League of Assasins was in play? He turned the arrow over again, examining the tip and the shaft. These looked identical to Merlyn's arrows. If Merlyn was alive . . . he had Felicity.

He had sent Felicity away to keep her safe, and in the end it hadn't even mattered.

Oddly enough, his next thought was a feeling of relief. Because if Malcolm was alive, at least he could cross lying to Tommy on his death bed off of his very, very long list of personal regrets. Apparently he had not, in fact, killed Tommy's dad. Although, all things considered, he would have preferred living with that personal regret over Felicity being held captive, as Walter had been. _Or worse_, his mind argued. But Oliver could not allow himself to think that way. She had to be alive, and he was going to find her. The alternative was unthinkable. He fingered the pin again. Hope, in this case, would keep him sane. She could not be dead. He wouldn't allow it.

He realized Diggle had reappeared, and had been saying his name. "We should go," he said when Oliver finally looked at him.

"You found nothing?" Oliver asked, already knowing the answer.

Diggle shook his head. "Do you think we should call the police?"

Oliver continued to turn the arrow over in his hands. He had be sure when he had sent Felicity away. He had been sure about a lot of things in the past, and had been wrong. He wasn't sure about anything right now. He met Diggle's eyes. "What do _you_ think?"

"I think that if they do anything at all, they will do what they did when the Dark Archer came the first time."

"Blame me," Oliver said. _That would be appropriate in this case_, he thought to himself.

Diggle nodded, and they headed for the door.

As they made the excruciatingly long drive back to Starling City, Oliver took the pin off his shirt and turned it in his fingers. He had done some stupid things in the name of hope. He had hoped his mission as the Hood would be over, and he had fallen in to bed with Laurel, which had ended up hurting Tommy. And the Tommy had died, and there was no making anything right. Felicity, despite his high handed attempts to extract her from his life, without even asking her what _she _wanted, had given him this pin because she wanted him to have hope. He would be hopeful, for her. He would find her, and try to make things right.

"So," Digg said after a long while.

"In a way," Oliver said slowly, "This fits. The verdict on my mother's trial. Her strange behavior since it came down. She hardly leaves her bedroom, Diggle, yet alone the house."

"Malcolm Merlyn is alive."

"And he has Felicity," Oliver finished grimly.

"How could he have survived?" Diggle wondered. "We saw him die."

Oliver shrugged. It wasn't as if he hadn't fake-died a time or to himself. "Death can sometimes be an illusion. They never found his body. I should have thought then that something was up. . . "

"So what's next?" Diggle asked, taking one hand off the wheel to scrub it over the lower half of his face. Oliver could see worry and fear there.

"We find him. And then we find her."

"How do we find a ghost?"

Oliver shook his head, looking out the window. "We probably should start with my mother."

"And by 'we', you mean . . . "

Olivered looked up at the bright sky. It wouldn't be dark for at least 9 hours. "She would probably answer me better, but Oliver Queen can't know the things that the Arrow does. On the other hand, there is no way I am waiting until night falls to speak with her."

"I think I need to call a security meeting with the entire staff," Diggle said thoughtfully. "That should give you a chance to slip in and see what she says. Hopefully she won't shoot you again."

Oliver leaned his head against the headrest and closed his eyes. "Wouldn't be the first time," he said morosely. Then he indulged himself in good memories. If he was going to stay sane, he was better off thinking about the past than thinking about what could be happening right now.

Xxx

Moira Queen was sitting in her bed, flipping through a magazine without really seeing the pages. She looked like her mind was elsewhere. Oliver stepped into the room, hood drawn, and extended a hand toward her. "I'm not here to hurt you," he said softly. He had left his quiver and bows at the Foundry, hoping that showing up unarmed would keep his mother from freaking out.

She started, and looked up at him. "You," she said, but there was no fear in his voice.

"I need your help," he said. When she didn't say anything, he went on. First things first . . . confirm their adversary. "Is Malcolm Merlyn alive?"

She gasped. "How can you know that."

Oliver closed his eyes at the pain of his next words. "He took someone I care about."

"I'm sorry," his mother said softly. "Malcolm does love controlling people by targeting the ones they love."

_Love_. That word took Oliver by surprise. "Do you have a way to contact him?" he asked.

"No," she said. "My driver takes me to him when he wants to see me. I don't know where he's staying, or what he's up to, but its something."

"What has he wanted from you?"

She toyed with "First he wanted me to know I owed him my freedom. And that he had something to hold over me. Since then, it has just been reminders that he has control."

Oliver nodded. "Thank you," he said.

"I hope you find her," Moira said, "and that she is safe." Oliver's heart clenched, and for a moment he wished that he could let his mother know how much her comfort meant to him. But she could not know she was speaking to her son. He slipped out the door and down the hall without another word.


	12. Breakdown

Chapter 12: Breakdown

Oliver knew there was no way he could corner his mother's driver in broad daylight. He should also talk to Walter Steele, but wanted to save that for later—it was possible that the driver could give them a lead that would mean something to Walter. As a result, Oliver was left with little else to do but think.

As of right now, they had nothing to go. On they were chasing a ghost; someone that everyone thought was dead. They didn't know what name he was using, or anything else for that matter. Maybe, if Felicity were here, she would find some way to trace Merlyn, but it was most likely beyond what he and Diggle were capable of. Merlyn was careful. He had planned The Undertaking with careful precision, and despite Oliver's best efforts, they hadn't be able to stop it. They had a hell of a lot more clues to go on for that than they did in this current situation.

Oliver drove himself to the Foundry on his bike, hoping to burn off some energy, but as soon as he started it, he was shocked by a crystal clear memory of Felicity's arms banding around him. It felt like a lifetime ago since he had actually been able to touch her, to see her face up close and in person. He repeated the words to himself he had thought a thousand times since Diggle had picked him up that morning. He had sent her away, to keep her safe. Except she _wasn't safe_.

He stewed over it as he drove. That proved to be a mistake. By the time he got to the Foundry, he was livid. He started in immediately on the salmon ladder. He didn't know when Digg walked in, but after he broke his sticks on the dummy for the third time, he saw him leaning on Felicity's desk, watching Oliver with a concerned look.

Oliver needed a battle. And since he couldn't find Malcolm Merlyn, he started in on Digg. "Something to say, Diggle?"

Digg shook his head. "I'd ask you if you are okay, man, but I know you're not."

"Of course not," Oliver shouted. He marched up to Diggle, got right in his face. "I sent her away, and she went and even _that _was not enough." Oliver spun his jaw clenching. He went for the salmon ladder again. But he wasn't focusing. He was thinking how he had damned Felicity the moment he had climbed in to her car, bleeding. There was no going back. Even if he didn't care about her, even if she was nothing to him, she was marked as his. She would _never _be safe.

His hand slipped, and he fell. Since he wasn't thinking about what he was doing, he didn't even manage to land on his feet. He deserved the pain anyway.

Diggle moved over to him. "Oliver, you aren't any good to her if you don't get it together."

"Jesus, Digg," he yelled. "I'm no good to her at all. What was the point of the past month? I sent her away, and for whatever reason, she went. She didn't want to go, but she did. WHY? But she wasn't safe then, either, because now Merlyn has her, and I don't even know where to begin looking for her. All because I brought her in to this. All because I brought her into my office. Everyone thinks we're sleeping together so OF COURSE if you want to hurt me, she's the way to do it. I put a mark on her that's never going to come off. There is no way I can make her safe, ever again. So it wasn't worth it. Her pain, my pain, it was for nothing. It was pointless. I've already damned her!"

He needed to hit something again, and the dummies weren't really doing it. Hitting Diggle was out of the question, as satisfying as it might have been. He stormed to the case that held his suit, and punched the glass. The physical pain of the glass on his knuckles was almost a welcome break from the feelings bubbling within him.

"Oliver!" Diggle bellowed at him. "You need to get a grip. Felicity needs you now. NOW. It doesn't matter what happened before. That's done. There's no undoing it."

Just like that, the fight left him. He leaned against the nearest pillar and slid down it. He could feel the glass under him, but he didn't care. It was nothing. He put his hands over his knees, trying to slow down his ragged breathing.

"She went because you asked her too, because she knew you felt you had to protect her. She wanted to wait for you to figure it out on your own. Until _you _were ready to deal with all the stuff going on inside your head. It's the same reason she just let you go after Tommy died. She understood you couldn't deal, and that you needed time. She"

"She's not like us Diggle. She hadn't seen death or pain until she came here. I just wanted to keep her from any more of it."

"It wasn't your call, though, Oliver. She stayed, even though she knew it was dangerous. It was her call. It's always been her call."

Oliver buried his head in his hands. This was too much. All of it was too much. He wished he could just shut off his heart until it was over.

"And whatever is happening now," DIggle said slowly, "I can almost guarantee you that she would tell you she would do it all again."

Oliver looked at him then. "Why?" He thought he sounded like a helpless child. "Why is she willing to give up so much, Digg?"

"Because she cares about you, and what we do. And because she's Felicity, and it's just her way."

Oliver stared in to space, contemplating. He thought about how bravely she had faced everything that had come their way; the way she had actually _apologized _to him for putting him in a situation where he had to take a life to save her. As if he would have changed a thing. _Other _than her not being in danger in the first place.

Diggle stepped closer. "I know you're afraid for her Oliver. I am too. In the worst way. She may not know how to fight, but she's strong and smart. And she _knows _we're coming for her. She'll be ready. We need to be ready too. You can't be ready if you don't get out of your head, man." He turned then and headed back to the stairs. "I'll be back before nightfall."

Oliver didn't acknowledge him.

_"She _knows _we're coming for her."_ There it was again. Even Diggle thought she believed in him. In them. He didn't really understand how she could see it all, all his scars, all the death and the violence, all the pain, and still want to be a part of it. But she _did_. She believed in him, and what they did. Fingering the pin, he thought about that. _Kibou. Hope. _

He gave up the war with himself. He was so very scared he would not be able to find her, and tell her that he was sorry that he sent her away. And that he shouldn't have. And that the thing that made him more sorry than anything else was that he couldn't say he wished he had never brought her in to any of this. Because it would be a lie. She saw him, and she liked him anyway. She didn't look down on him or call him a murderer, or tell him that it was his fault Tommy was dead. She thought he deserved better than the purgatory he had assigned himself to.'

_Love_. He thought of the word his mother had said earlier that afternoon. Love and hope were two very dangerous words. His head was in his hands again. He longed to have Felicity safe so he could begin sorting out the mess that was his heart.


	13. Information

Chapter 13: Information

At some point, Oliver got up off the floor and picked the glass shards out of his skin. Diggle was right, as always. He had to get himself together. He had to figure out a way to compartmentalize his guilt and the other indescribable feelings that were threatening to overwhelm him. Eventually Diggle returned, and they headed to the Queen Mansion to interview Moira's driver.

Evan Lincoln has been in their family's employ for well over a decade. He had been Moira's personal driver since before Oliver left on that ill-fated trip on the Gambit. He wondered how long the man had been complicit in Merlyn's scheming.

Oliver spent an hour or two at home, then dialed Lincoln's number. "Mr. Lincoln," he said into the phone. "Mr. Diggle has fallen ill, and I need to return to the office. Would you mind driving me?" Ten minutes later, Oliver was sitting behind the man who had delivered his mother to Malcolm Merlyn on more than one occasion. He instructed Lincoln to drop him off in front of Queen Consolidated, and to wait for him in the car.

Five minutes after that, the Arrow appeared and hijacked the car, insisting that Lincoln drive them some place less conspicuous. Lincoln complied, and Oliver instructed him to drive to a deserted alleyway.

"How does Malcolm Merlyn contact you?" He growled once they were parked. He held a knife in his hand, because his bow was not much use inside the confines of a car.

"Um," Lincoln stammered, a look of fear in his eyes. "Malcolm Merlyn? He's dead."

"You and I both know he's not. How does he contact you?" He demanded.

"He calls me." He nodded toward his phone on the dashboard.

"Do you have a way of reaching him?" When Lincoln shook his head, Oliver used one hand to reach up and take the phone. The history showed several blocked calls. He slipped a piece of Felicity's "tech," as she called it, out of his pocket and attached it to the phone, watching Lincoln the whole time. The man was looking out the window. He looked like a caged animal.

"What does he want from you?" Oliver demanded.

"He asks me to take Mrs. Queen to meet him." Lincoln swallowed, and Oliver could tell there was more. "What else?" He demanded, growing impatient.

"Sometimes . . . " the man swallowed. "Sometimes he has me follow Oliver Queen."

"Why?" Oliver demanded, pressing the knife closer to the man's neck.

"He doesn't tell me his reasons. But he's had me follow Oliver, and the girl, quite a bit in the last month."

Oliver's heart stopped. "What girl?" he asked. The knife bit in to Lincoln's skin, and a trickle of blood touched the tip.

"Please," Lincoln begged. "Some girl in Capitol City. I've seen her before, she used to work for Mr. Queen. Leggy blonde, glasses."

Malcolm had been watching Felicity? He supposed that made sense, he would need to know her movements before he took her. But to what end?

He spent another fifteen minutes questioning the man. When he finally stepped out of the car, he had a list of all the places Lincoln had taken Moira to meet Malcolm. He had a list of the days he had followed both Oliver and Felicity, and what information he had passed along to Merlyn. He also knew that Lincoln had gotten himself into some trouble twelve years ago, and that Malcolm Merlyn had fixed the trouble for him. He had been doing things for Merlyn ever since. Oliver had told the man that if mentioned anything at all about their little talk to Merlyn, he would be a dead man. And then he had slipped out of the car without another word.

He ran the two blocks to Queen Consolidated, ditching the hood and removing the eye paint as he did. He called Mr. Lincoln on his cellular. "I'm finished, where are you? I don't see the car." Mr. Lincoln stammered an apology, and the car pulled up shortly after Oliver arrived at the front door of QC, smoothing the front of his suit.

Xxx

Felicity was sitting in the dank, windowless room, counting tiles on the ceiling for what felt like the millionth time when the door to what she thought of as her cell opened. She looked up, disinterested, assuming it would be one of the muscle bound armed men who seemed to be keeping watch over her and who brought her food at what seemed to be regular intervals. Her mouth fell open in shock when she saw the tall, dark haired man in front of her.

"You!" She said, unable to believe her eyes. Suddenly everything made a little more sense.

She had gotten home from her martial arts class late Friday night. She had put her keys on the table by the door, and had been walking toward her bedroom to change. That was absolutely the last thing she had remembered when she woke up in this stupid little room. She had found a tiny pinhole in her neck using the small mirror above the once-white sink next to the bed, and suspected she had been drugged. Now she knew that she had. Malcolm Merlyn had used that M.O. before. But how could he possibly be standing in front of her? Oliver and Diggle had killed him during the Undertaking. She had never actually met the man, but she had seen him on the news more times than she cared to count.

He smiled at her in a way that made her skin crawl, and she thought it was the way a predator would smile at something it was about to kill and eat. "Ms. Smoak," he said in a falsely cordial manner. "I don't believe we've ever met in person."

Rage filled her, and she would have rushed him. But she knew that even Oliver, with all of his skill, had a hard time fighting this man. She wouldn't stand a chance. But she wished she could do something. This man was responsible for so much misery. She thought of all the lives lost in the quake. She thought of all of Oliver's scars, and how none of them would be there had Malcolm Merlyn not sabotaged the family yacht. Her hands fisted at her sides.

He raised an eyebrow at her in what looked suspiciously like a challenge.

"Why am I here?" She asked. Even though she was pretty sure she understood now. He was going to use her against Oliver, and that thought made her sick to her stomach.

"I have some plans I'm working on, and you are my insurance policy against a certain arrogant young man in a hood."

She closed her eyes, and silently apologized to Oliver for what she was going to say next. She had to be convincing. She scoffed at Merlyn. "You are going to be in a for a huge surprise," she said. "He doesn't care about me."

"On the contrary," Merlyn said, stepping closer. "I think Oliver Queen would do anything to protect you. Including die. Which is the plan."

_No, no, no, no. _ She snorted. She had to lie, and lie well. "He fired me, and sent me to another city rather than look at me. He slept with his partner because he was tired of me. So don't be surprised when he doesn't come."

"Oh, he'll come," Merlyn gave that evil smile again. "I will tell him I will kill you if I won't, and he will come. And then I will finish what I've started so many times. I will end him."

She tried to keep her eyes from betraying the pain of his words. She had no doubt that he was right, at least about Oliver coming. _I'll always come for you_. She searched her mind for a way to change the subject.

"Why are _you_ here?" She demanded, with a lot more strength than she felt.

"I'm going to need something from you soon. I need some information. I just wanted you to be aware that I would be needing your services. Be ready to work tomorrow."

"I won't help you." She said. She highly doubted Merlyn needed help with a humanitarian mission. She wanted no part of whatever he had planned.

"You will. Or I will send a few pieces of you back to Mr. Queen in a box." He smiled again, and turned to leave.

Refusing to let him think he had terrified her, even though he _had_ terrified her, she called after him. "Even when he knew what you were, Tommy hoped Oliver hadn't killed you." She was hoping the man had a little humanity left and that she could throw him off balance.

Merlyn turned, and she knew by the look in his eyes that she had failed. "Tommy was weak. He didn't see my vision, and he chose his own path. Now it's up to you to chose yours. Good day, Ms. Smoak."

He left and the door slammed shut with finality.


	14. Phoenix

_AN: Thanks again all for the reviews. Not sure how many updates will be coming over the next few days, but I hope all of you have a very happy Thanksgiving! When I originally planned this story, Malcolm wasn't up to anything other than trying to get rid of Oliver, and Felicity was a means to an end, but this things has taken up a life of his own and it would seem he's going to be up to more than that. _

Chapter 14: Phoenix

Oliver slipped quietly into Walter Steele's office at Starling National Bank, thankful that his former step-father was keeping late hours today.

Slipping in to a shadowy corner, he said Walter's name to get his attention.

Walter looked up at him. "I need your help," Oliver said.

Walter gave him a half smile. "Of course, anything you need. I owe my life to you after all. Would you like to sit?" He gestured to the seat across from him.

"I'd rather stand," Oliver said, but couldn't help a half-smile at the offer. He was glad that Walter was comfortable enough in the Arrow's presence to keep his seat. At least not everyone thought he was a deranged vigilante. "It seems that Malcolm Merlyn is still alive," Oliver said succinctly.

"What?" Walter said, leaning forward in his chair. "How do you know this?"

"He took a person I care about, in a similar manner to the way he took you." Oliver said. "I was hoping you could tell me something about your experience that would help me find her."

Walter exhaled and leaned back in his chair. "I don't remember much. I stepped into an elevator with a man, and the next thing I knew I was in the dinghy tenement building that you found me in. There were men with guns, but I never saw or heard anything noteworthy."

Oliver sighed. That was not going to help at all. The information that his mother's driver had given him was informative, but really didn't take them anywhere. He was hoping Walter would be able to provide something that would give them some idea of where to begin looking for Felicity.

He must have shown his disappointment more than he meant to, because Walter spoke again. "If I may ask," he said thoughtfully, "how did you find me the first time?"

_Felicity_, Oliver thought. But of course he wouldn't say it out loud. If she were here, he had no doubt they would already have an idea of where to look. It served as a ridiculous reminder of how much they needed her. How much _he _needed her. He gave himself a mental shake, reminding himself to focus.

"My . . .friend . . ." That word seemed glaringly inadequate. "She was able to figure out where you were being held by looking at properties held by Merlyn Global and triangulating them with a call Merlyn made. That was how we were able to find you."

Walter nodded, pyramiding his hands against his mouth. He appeared to be wracking his brain for ideas.

"But of course, that does no good now," Oliver continued. "Because Merlyn Global is no more."

Walter sat up suddenly. "No, but it hasn't been disassembled," he said. There was a sudden sent of urgency in his voice again. "Merlyn Global was purchased in its entirety by a conglomerate I'd never heard of before, for far more than a company in its situation should have gone for. Do you know the name of that company?"

Oliver shook his head, feeling a surge of hope in his chest.

"Merlyn Global was bought by a company called Phoenix."

Oliver inhaled sharply. "As in, the mythological Greek bird that was reborn from fire."

Walter nodded.

Oliver took a step forward, despite the fact it took him out of the shadows. "You think it's possible that the company that bought up Merlyn Global . . . "

Walter nodded again and finished for him. "May actually be controlled by Malcolm Merlyn. In a way it makes sense. When the purchase happened, I remembered thinking it was strange that I had never heard of the company before. Usually companies that buy up struggling businesses—such as Stellmore International, for instance—gain notoriety for their actions. But I had never heard of Phoenix."

Oliver nodded again. "I can't thank you enough, Mr. Steele," he said, turning to go.

"Good luck," Walter called after him. "And don't hesitate to pay me another visit if I can help in any way."

As Oliver ran for the stairs, he felt as if the weight in his chest was loosening just a tiny bit. Finally, they had some direction.

Xxx

Felicity leaned back in the small cot and counted the ceiling tiles yet again. As close as she could tell, it had to be sometime Monday night. It had been three days now since she was taken. She had no doubt that Oliver and Diggle knew that something was up. She hadn't called as she had said she would, and that was not something that would escape Diggle's notice.

What on earth was Malcolm Merlyn up to? And what was she going to do when he came tomorrow and . . . asked her to do whatever it was he was going to ask her to do? It was hard to plan how to _not _do something, when you had no idea what that something was. She had no doubt that he would make good on his threat to hurt her and send parts to Oliver. While she did not look forward to the pain of that, she knew she couldn't allow it to happen because Oliver would never forgive himself. She would have to find a way to make it look like she was doing whatever he wanted without actually doing it. Presumably she would be doing something on a computer. She also had to figure out how to get a message to Oliver and Digg. But what would she tell them? She had _no idea_ where she was.

She wished again that she had the same ninja-like skills Oliver and Sara Lance had, so that she could overtake the armed men watching her and get out of this place. But she doubted she would manage to do more than get herself injured . . . or dead. So she would have to wait.

She didn't doubt that as soon as Oliver figured out where she was, he would come for her. After Malcolm's threat though, she really wished he wouldn't. She didn't want him to die for her. _Not for me, Oliver_. She heard his voice again as she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, from that night on her couch after the Count. _I'll always come for you._


	15. Preparation

_AN: I am getting little else done today . . . My loss, your gain! :-)_

Chapter 15: Preparation

"Digg!" Oliver shouted as he came down the stairs at the Foundry.

Diggle stood up, taking in Oliver's appearance, and gave a half smile. "You found something."

Oliver pushed the hood back and nodded. "Yes," he said, noticed with shock that he sounded . . . _hopeful_. "Pull up all the property records for a company called Phoenix. They bought up Merlyn Global."

Digg looked at him incredulously. "Phoenix?"

Oliver nodded. "Yeah, seems ridiculously obvious now, doesn't it."

Now it was Diggle's turn to nod. "You could definitely say that."

Digg turned to Felicity's computer and started working. Again it hit Oliver that if she were here, she would already have a list of properties pulled up.

"Huh, look at that," Diggle said, sitting back in his chair.

Oliver contemplated the map Diggle had pulled up. "He's buying up the Glades," Oliver said. "How many of these are from before the Undertaking?"

Diggle went back to work, typing. In a few minutes, approximately two thirds of the properties that were owned by Phoenix were highlighted.

"So he's bought that much in seven months?" Oliver asked, indicating to the other properties.

"Yeah. But why?"

Oliver shook his head. "I don't know. But here," he said, pulling the list he had compiled after talking to Lincoln. "See where these are in the relation to those properties. In the mean time, I think we need to send a message to Merlyn."

"What kind of message?" Diggle asked, already bending over the computer to put in the parameters Oliver had provided.

Xxx

Oliver stood outside the building that had once housed Merlyn Global. The top of the building was now emblazoned with the word PHOENIX in red, with a bird flying through the P. He shook his head, wondering how he had missed the symbolism as he had driven past the building every day for the past two months. Of course, the answer to that was that he never looked at the building. It made him think of Tommy.

He worked his way toward the janitorial entrance of the building, and within five minutes, he was in the executive offices. He removed the black arrow from his quiver and drove it into the center of the table. He knew that Malcolm had left the arrow for him, so that he would know exactly where Felicity was. Now he was letting Malcolm know that he was on to him. And he was coming for him. And for her.

xxx

Back at the Foundry, Diggle presented Oliver with a map. "Here," he said, pointing to three red x's on the map, "is where Mr. Lincoln has taken Mrs. Queen. Here," now he pointed to the properties outlined in green. "Are the twenty properties within a five mile radius that Phoenix owns. If we double the radius, the number of properties triples."

"It's too many," Oliver said with annoyance in his tone. "There is no way we can search them all without tipping them off."

Diggle nodded. "And just because they are close to those meeting points doesn't mean Felicity is there. Maybe Malcolm is staying close, but maybe not. And there's no guarantee they are in the same building."

"Can we check out satellite footage?"

Diggle sighed. "I can't. We would need Felicity for that."

Oliver leaned against the table, scrubbing his hands over his face. "Damn, Diggle, how did we ever do anything without her?"

Diggle tilted his head appraisingly. Oliver could tell that Diggle was pleased he wasn't losing his grip again due to the bad news. Had he been that bad? He considered, and then realized he had. "Well," Diggle said with a smile, "as I've pointed out before, she was helping you when I was still trying to protect you."

Oliver chuckled, remembering how much fun he had dodging Diggle back in the beginning. "Dumping you was the highlight of my day," he joked.

"So what now?" Diggle asked.

Oliver looked at his watch. It was after 2am. "We should get some rest. I expect our message will be received bright and early in the morning. We need to be ready for anything after that."

"What about Isabel and Oliver Queen, CEO."

Oliver shrugged. "I messaged Isabel that I wasn't feeling well. It's not a priority right now. "

Diggle clasped Oliver on the shoulder. "Goodnight, man. Get some rest."

After Diggle left, Oliver slipped into the hood. He headed upstairs and into the shadows of the alley behind Verdant. When Malcolm Merlyn received his message in the morning, there was a possibility that he would try to come after Oliver directly. He had already asked Diggle to up security on both his mother and his sister, but he wanted to make doubly sure Thea was safe.

He waited for only about ten minutes until Roy Harper stepped out into the alley, carrying an empty box of bottles.

"Hey, kid," he said.

Roy swung to face him, ready for a fight. He straightened when he saw the arrow. "What's up?" he asked.

"Keep a close eye on your girl," Oliver said slowly.

"Thea?" Roy said, looking toward the club. "Why?"

"There's something going down. Something big. She could be a target. Don't let her out of your sight." He slipped a phone out of his jacket and handed it to Roy. "If anything happens that seems suspicious, use this."

Roy took the phone and nodded. Oliver disappeared into the night.

Xxx

Oliver laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling. It seemed unbelievable that he woken up this morning thinking Felicity was safe, and that Malcolm Merlyn was dead. How quickly things could change in the space of a few hours.

_You shouldn't worry so much_.

He turned his head, and Felicity was next to him. He knew his mind was giving him what he needed to let sleep come. It was something he had started back on the island, when the guilt and the shock of what his life had become was still fresh and he had needed a coping mechanism. He used to imagine Laurel. And Shado, after she was gone. Stuff like this probably made him insane, but he was so tired and raw from the day, from the entire month really, that he didn't care.

_"I'm so sorry,"_ he told her.

She smiled and ghosted a hand over his cheek.

_Sleep. Dream happy dreams._

_"I dream of you_, _even when I try not to. I shouldn't dream of you. Look where it put you_."

_I'm my own person Oliver. You should get that through your head. Now sleep._

Even his mind was trying to convince him that it was her choice, not his. Sleep found him then, and he dreamed happy dreams of her, just as she had asked.


	16. Deception

_AN: Hope everyone had a Happy Thanksgiving! Here's the next chapter. I probably won't be as fast as usual updating since the whole fam is off until Monday. Enjoy!_

Chapter 16: Deception

Felicity woke up as rough hands grabbed her, pulling her from bed. She immediately started struggling. "Let me go!" she yelled.

"No need for that, Ms. Smoak." She froze, and saw Malcolm Merlyn. _Oh, great. _"Sorry to wake you, but it would appear your young hero would like us to hurry along in our business so he can meet his death."

_Oliver. _She put on her best stupid face. "I don't even know what you mean."

"No matter," Merlyn said. "This way, please." He extended his arm, and the goon holding her arm pushed her in that direction.

"I can _walk_," she growled, with more courage than she felt. She met Merlyn's eyes, and shook off the goon's hand.

Malcolm nodded his ascent. "As you wish. But any effort to escape will be dealt with swiftly and without mercy."

At the end of a hall, there was a bank of computers rivaling her setup at the Foundry. She sat down. _Okay, moment of truth, _she thought to herself. _Make it look like you did it without actually doing it_ . . .She exhaled, and raised her hands in a "what now" gesture at Merlyn.

He handed her a piece of paper. "You will hack into these accounts, and move the amounts I specify here," he tapped the paper, "to the accounts listed below. You will then cover your tracks, so it's untraceable."

She scanned the numbers. She recognized several of them from her job as Oliver's EA. They were charities set up to help the victims of the quake. She worked hard to control her breathing and keep the recognition out of her face. Malcolm Merlyn still had plans for the Glades. "And if I don't?" she asked. Because she knew that if she did it without a fight, he may be suspicious.

Malcolm nodded to the good and there was suddenly a very large weapon pressed into her head. "The gun," Merlyn said slowly, "is just a reminder of the threat I made earlier. I won't need a gun for that."

Felicity gulped, and she didn't need to fake her fear. She set to work typing, thinking as she went. Bank funds she could do. As long as they didn't watch her every key stroke, she would be able to set the money up to move accounts, and then put itself back at a set time. If she could get them to look away long enough, she could even connect to the computers at the Foundry and set up a back trace. She liked that idea. She made a show of having problems getting through the banks firewall. "Um, I can do this, but it may take awhile," she said.

Merlyn just shrugged and continued to watch her.

She made slow progress. It was still much faster than most could have entered the very secure banking system of Starling International, but she could have been in and out already if she were actually trying to be quick. When the funds started transferring, Malcolm said a few quiet words to the goon and left the room.

_Now_. Felicity took a deep breath and started typing much faster, trying hard not to hit the keys too hard so that the goon wouldn't notice her increased typing speed. She put the commands in place to return the money at noon.

It was clear Merlyn wanted the charities to fail, but why? Her brain worked on that problem while her hands worked on connecting with the computer at the Foundry and setting up the back trace. If the charities had no money, they couldn't help the people of the Glades. She wondered about the bank accounts she was transferring the money to. The back trace was set up and running, so Felicity pulled another window up and quickly entered the account numbers and a quick message for Digg and Oliver. Now they would see the information when they logged on, along with the back trace.

She closed the connection to the Foundry system and set about scrubbing the traces of what she had done. She paused and pressed her glasses on her nose, looking at the goon. "Almost done," she said. She covered her tracks with the banks. Goon looked over her shoulder at the accounts and nodded. The minute she closed the connection, he was grabbing her and dragging her back down the hall. "I can _still_ walk," she said, but he ignored her.

Her righteous indignation turned to surprise as he started dragging her toward the stairs. "Wait, where are we going now?" She dug in her heels and tried to halt their progress. "Stop!" She felt a prick then, and realized he had a needle in his hand.

Xxx

Oliver slipped down the stairs at the Foundry at seven the next morning. He had slept much longer than he expected, which was probably a good thing since sleep hadn't accounted for much of his day in the past month or so. He suspected he would need to be rested and in top form today. He turned on the lights and thought about taking a trip to the Glades to scope some of the properties Diggle had marked. Then he saw Felicity's computers, and froze. They were not in sleep mode, as they should have been. One held a screen shot of what appeared to be the Starling National Bank's data access point. One held a list of account numbers. There was a message at the end. "It's still all about the Glades. This was too easy. Be careful." And the third held an IP back trace leading to an address in the Glades.

He grabbed his phone and dialed Diggle. "Where are you?" He demanded.

"Five minutes out, why?"

"Make it two," he said urgently. "Felicity made contact."

"What?"

"Just get here!" He yelled, and disconnected.

Oliver pulled out the comm unit from the drawer and left out a second for Diggle. Of course the sun was rising, so he could't carry his bow. He grabbed his helmet and headed up the stairs without another thought.

Diggle called him as he sped toward the address Felicity had provided him with.

"Tell me," he said.

"I'm on my way there now," Oliver said.

"Why on earth would they leave her alone with a computer long enough to do this, Oliver?" Diggle questioned.

"I don't know, but I have to check it out." Oliver said. He would never forgive himself if he didn't follow the lead. "Use the voice scrambler and reach out to Walter, see if he can figure anything out about those accounts."

"Be careful, man," Digg said. I don't like the way this feels. Oliver had to agree. Even if Merlyn didn't know how good Felicity was, it was strange that they would give her any time unsupervised with a computer. Even she had noted that it was too easy.

Then the time for thinking was gone, because he had arrived at the address.

xxx

Felicity looked at Malcolm Merlyn, unable to move. After she had felt the prick in her neck, her entire body had gone limp, but she hadn't lost consciousness. An armed goon had pulled her out to the street and into a black town car parked immediately in front of the building. Once she was in, she felt the sensation of the car moving.

"I'm not an idiot, Ms. Smoak," Merlyn said slowly. "Now we see if you can follow directions, and you can see what happens when you don't."

_Oh no_, she thought. She _knew_ things had been too easy. She had provided Oliver with a back trace to this place, and now they were parked outside of it. She wasn't sure how long they waited, but the darkness of night had given way to dawn. She relished seeing the light, even through the tinted windows. It had been days since she had seen daylight. _Please, Oliver, stay away_, she thought, even though she knew that he wouldn't.

She heard the roar of a motorcycle, but couldn't turn her head in the direction of the sound. Merlyn took her pony tail and moved her head so that she could see the black bike whiz by and park down the street. The sensation of his hands in her hair reminded her of the count, and made his skin crawl. She saw the brown leather jacket Oliver favored when he rode his bike. Without removing his helmet, he dismounted and went in to the building they had come out of.

_No, no, no, no_, she thought, feeling tears prick her eyes.

The car started, and started to move. They drove past the bike, and Malcolm turned her head again so she could watch the building out of the back window until they turned a corner.

"Disobedience means people die, Ms. Smoak." Merlyn whispered in his ear. To her horror, there was a brilliant flash, and if Felicity could have screamed she would have. A cloud of dust and flame filled the block they had just passed. She knew that the building Oliver had run in to seconds before had just exploded. "As I said," Merlyn said as he turned her head facing forward, "Any effort to escape will be dealt with swiftly and without mercy."

_Oliver._


	17. Turning Tide

_AN: You know I wouldn't leave you hanging like that. Of course he isn't dead!_

Chapter 17: Turning Tide

Oliver stepped into the dingy tenement building and listened. He couldn't hear a single sound. He felt warning bells go off in his head. _This was too easy. Be careful_. Merlyn wasn't an idiot. He would know Felicity would try to contact them. Maybe he was even hoping for it. He thought back to when the Dark Archer had used misdirection to try to kill him before. He had tried to blow him up in an abandoned building.

Oliver sprinted back out the door. He grabbed his bike and gunned it. Seconds later the building exploded. The concussion of the blast knocked Oliver from his bike and sent him skidding. He felt pain as his right side made contact with the asphalt and slid for quite some time. As soon as he was able, he was up and back to his bike, hoping it was still rideable. He climbed back on and headed back to the Foundry, grimacing at the pain as he kicked the bike back into gear.

Diggle rushed to help him when he stumbled down the stairs, concern in his eyes. "What the hell happened?" He asked.

"It was a trap," Oliver hissed in pain, pulling off his jacket.

Digg moved in and checked at the road rash on the right side of his body. "We need to get this cleaned up," he said, and set to work.

"Did you get anything from Walter?" Oliver asked, looking toward the beams and focusing his mind away from the pain as Diggle started removing pieces of asphalt from his arm.

"According to Walter, it looks like they made Felicity transfer a pretty sizable sum of money from several charities to the accounts of many of Starling City's elite."

"Merlyn's partners?" Oliver asked.

"Uh," DIggle said, "I think not."

Oliver looked at him, raising an eyebrow at his illusive answer.

"One of the accounts was your trust."

Oliver considered that. "Who else?" He asked.

Diggle pulled a pad from by the computer and read a list of names.

"I don't think any of those people were on The List," Oliver said. "And with only a few exceptions, everyone on that list has been active in helping rebuild the Glades."

"Walter said all of the accounts that she transferred money from were Glades charities, focused on the reconstruction effort. What on earth is going on?"

"If you were Malcolm Merlyn," Oliver said, thinking out loud, "And you still had plans for the Glades, how would you undermine the efforts at reconstruction?"

"Go on," Diggle said, bandaging Oliver's arm.

"Maybe he's trying to undermine the restoration efforts to keep prices low, so that he can continue to buy up properties. A scandal within the charity system involving the elite who aren't on his list will certainly do that. And help remove undesirable people of who may have the means later to step up in an effort to stop him."

"So what now?"

"Any way we can get traffic cam footage in the vicinity of that building?" Oliver asked.

Diggle shrugged. "I can try. You think he watched?"

Oliver shook his head. "I don't know. Not the whole thing. I didn't notice anyone leaving when the explosion happened. But . . ." he sighed.

"What?" Diggle asked.

"I don't know. If he gave her the chance to contact us, maybe he wanted to teach her a lesson."

"You think he made her watch?"

Oliver shrugged again. "He gets control of people by terrorizing them, by showing that he will take away anything they care about." He closed his eyes, thinking of the things his mother had done to try and protect him and his sister. "We need to find her."

"But how?" Diggle asked.

Oliver really wished he knew.

Xxx

Felicity felt her stomach roll as the car came to a stop. She tried to move her arms, but whatever drug Merlyn's men had injected her with still kept her from moving. _Oliver was dead_. No, no, no. She wouldn't let it be true. But oh, God, she had seen him go inside and she had seen the explosion and she had heard Merlyn's cold voice telling her he followed through with his threats.

The goon squad was pulling her out of the car then, and she was almost certain she was going to vomit on their shoes. Her head lolled and she got a good look at the building they were carrying her toward. She realized she _knew_ this building. It was an old packing plan on Canary Street. She had passed it once when she had made a wrong turn in the Glades. Of course, it didn't matter. Because the only person who would save her had just been blown up, trying to save her.

A more rational part of her mind argued that it wasn't true. Digg would still come for her. But honestly, she didn't care. She wasn't sure that she cared about anything at all anymore.

xxx

All hell broke loose just before lunch time. Oliver and Digg had been pouring over traffic cam footage and property records, looking for any sign of where Felicity had been taken. They had found a video showing a black town car parked in half a block from the tenement building, just as Oliver had suspected. Unfortunately, they hadn't been able to follow the car's path for long. So now they were looking through everything for a third time, because they had nothing else to go on. For the thousandth time, he thought that if Felicity were here, they would have leads to go on. She could find things where neither of them could.

It was 11:45 when Thea called, asking Oliver where he was. She told him the police were looking for him. Apparently an anonymous tip had been made that he and a dozen or so other members of Starling City's elite had embezzled money from several charities. The police were there to question him. Oliver told Thea to simply tell the police she hadn't been able to reach him, and to call him if anything changed.

When Oliver turned on the news, he was greeted by Laurel's face, standing stoically next to Adam Donner, as he swore swift justice. "We will prosecute those who think they can prey on this city's generosity, and take more from the people who need it most, to the full extent of the law. Forensic accountants are already looking in to this case, and we expect to make arrests within the hour."

Diggle looked at Oliver. "What do we do?"

Oliver shook his head. "I don't know. We are worse off today than we were yesterday." He had thought his arrow in Merlyn's boardroom would draw the other Archer out, but he now suspected it had simply made him move up his timetable. They had no better idea where Felicity was now than they had yesterday. He touched the pin she had given him, which he now displayed prominently on his shirt's collar. _I'm trying, Felicity, but it's hard to be hopeful with so many dead ends._

Fourty minutes later, Thea called him back and instructed him to turn on the news. "The District Attorney's Office is offering no comment today on their earlier claim that several of Starling City's Elite, including billionaire Oliver Queen, embezzled millions from half a dozen charities set up to benefit Glades Restoration. Our sources say that when forensic accountants went to verify the claims, they were unable to find any evidence at all of the stolen funds. Which begs the question, why was DA Adam Donner making promises of arrests within the hour?"

"Oh, shit." Diggle said, saying exactly what Oliver was thinking. "This has to be Felicity."

Merlyn was not going to be happy that she had tricked him. He was not used to being outsmarted. He would be absolutely furious, and that thought terrified Oliver. He sunk his head in his hands. "Diggle, we _have _to find her. Soon. _Now. _Because he is going to kill her after this."

"Unfortunately, it seems we need Felicity in order to find Felicity." Diggle said, sounding as defeated as Oliver felt.


	18. Boiling Point

Chapter 18: Boiling Point

Felicity knew the exact moment Malcolm Merlyn realized the transfer he had forced her to do had been reversed. Two of the armed guards came in to her little cell and dragged her to a room down the hall, where Merlyn was waiting.

"I thought," he said, with a lethal edge in his voice, "that you understood I am not to be fooled with."

God, she hated this man. She wasn't a person who used the word often, but with him, it came easily. She thought again of all the lives he'd ruined. She wanted nothing more than to piss him off before he killed her. She was nearly certain that's why she had been brought here. She tried to look non-chalant as she shrugged. "Technically, I did this _before_ your little demonstration," she said.

"Fix it!" He said, looking furious. He slid the laptop in front of him toward her. "Now."

She closed her eyes. "Why should I?" She demanded. "Don't say because you'll kill me if I don't, because I'm pretty sure you'll do that anyway. And Oliver is already dead, so you can't exactly threaten me with him either." She felt empty as she said the words. She was tired, she just wanted this to be over.

"It would seem," he said, "that Mr. Queen continues to be difficult to eliminate."

Her eyes flew to his. "What?" _Oliver was alive?_ She could use this. She wanted to see him, _needed _to see him to know for sure he was alive, and Merlyn seemed desperate enough he would allow her to. _Please, please let this work. "_I don't believe you!" She said.

"I assure you it's the truth he said."

She gestured to the laptop. "I want to see proof. I want to talk to him."

Merlyn looked at her, considering. "No more tricks, Ms. Smoak, or you die. And so does Mr. Queen,"

She didn't have to try to look fearful.

Xxx

Diggle and Oliver were still recovering from the newscast, which they were certain had signed Felicity's death warrant, when her face suddenly appeared on their screens.

"Oliver!" she cried. He knocked the stool he had been sitting on over in his haste to stand up, unable to believe his eyes.

"Felicity?" He took in her appearance. She looked tired, but otherwise no worse for the wear. Malcolm Merlyn was standing just off to her right, arms crossed. She looked scared, but not as scared as she had looked when the Count had her. On the contrary, her eyes were surprisingly clear. _God, _he missed her. The depth of want surprised him, and had him gripping the edge of the table as he leaned in toward the webcam.

"I thought you were dead," she whispered. "I'm very glad to see you're not." She met his eyes and held them. He couldn't help but feel she was willing him to understand something. "But Sarah was right. It's better to be alone. Now that I know you're alive Oliver, nothing short of a blackout would keep this from happening."

"That's enough," Merlyn said, fisting Felicity's hair and pulling slightly to silence her.

Oliver's jaw clenched and his grip on the table tightened. "Don't you touch her, Merlyn!" He growled. "This is between you and I."

"Indeed," Merlyn said succinctly. "And we're going to finish it. You will meet me at warehouse on the corner of Staret Street and Thurston, or she dies. You come alone, or she dies. If you don't come . . . well, you get the idea."

"Oliver, no!" For the first time, Felicity sounded panicked. Merlyn must have tightened his hold on her, because she cried out. And then she was gone.

"DAMMIT!" Oliver roared, still clutching the table as he bent over, trying to control his rage and his fear for her. Never in his life had he felt so helpless.

"Oliver," Diggle said, and Oliver was said that he sounded neither concerned nor stern. Diggle sounded _hopeful_. Oliver met his eyes, and saw that he was smiling. He must have looked terribly confused, because Digg asked, "Did you hear what she said?"

Oliver raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Of course, but . . . "

"She said 'Sarah was right. It's better to be alone.'" Diggle said, waiting for Oliver to catch on.

Oliver raised a hand, dismayed with Diggle's line of thought. He should be moving, heading toward his meeting with the Dark Archer. But he knew that the chances of him winning were slim to none. And they still had no idea where Felicity was. _That_ was what they should be focusing on.

"Does that sound like Felicity to you?" Diggle asked.

"No . . . " Oliver started, and then a memory suddenly surfaced. Felicity, leaning against a table, worrying one of his arrows between her hands. _Maybe it is better to be alone . . . If I were with someone, I don't know how I would tell them about today_. "Wait, she said something like that once." Realization began to dawn. "But hat had nothing to do with Sarah . . . she said it to _me_." In fact, Sarah was not even back at the time.

Diggle pulled up the map of Phoenix properties and tapped one. The crazy man was grinning ear to ear. "Look at this, Oliver." He was pointing to a property owned by Phoenix. _On Canary Street._

Oliver looked up at Diggle, and now he knew his voice was full of hope too. "Sarah is the Canary. We know where she is." It was about damn time.


	19. Extraction

_AN: Sorry that last chapter was so short. I've been struggling with these past few chapters . . . figuring how to make it semi-believable. I know its taken a LONG WHILE to finally get us here but the devil is in the details. One step closer! Thank you for all the incredible reviews/follows and favorites. I'll never find the time to respond to each of you individually, but you make this all the more fun. Thank you!  
_

Chapter 19: Extraction

Oliver was already grabbing for his bow when Diggle put an arm on his shoulder.

"Whoa, Oliver, we can't go off half cocked here," he said. "What is the plan?"

"I go meet Merlyn, you get Felicity," Oliver said, as if it should have been obvious. To him, it was.

"We know where she is, so why don't we _both_ go get her?"

Oliver shook his head. "I won't take that risk with her life, Digg. If something happens, and for some reason we don't get her out, he'll kill her if I don't meet him. I can't take that risk."

"And what about that last bit she said?" Diggle asked, completely changing the subject.

Oliver squeezed his fists in frustration. He needed to _do _something. He was tired of talking and waiting. "What are you talking about now?" He snapped, and immediately felt a bit of regret. Diggle had been right about Felicity's hidden meaning the first time.

"She said something about 'nothing short of a blackout will stop this.' Felicity was so careful about choosing her words. Why would she say that?"

Oliver groaned. Of course, she was trying to do the right thing, even with her life in danger. "She wants us to try and block her hack."

Diggle nodded. "But how?"

Oliver considered, torn. If she couldn't hack back into Starling National, it was possible that they would kill her on the spot. But she obviously felt it was important enough to ask them to do it, when every word could be her last. His fist squeezed again.

"Okay, we need to be quick about this. Call Walter and ask him if its possible to block her. Tell him her exact words. I'm going to call Lance and ask him to meet you there, just in case you get hung up and need backup. Getting her out is the most important thing."

Diggle started to object. "If Lance sees me, he's going to know . . . "

"_The most important thing_, John. Nothing else matters. I'll meet Merlyn as planned."

"Oliver, every time you've faced him. . . " Diggle started again.

"It doesn't matter," Oliver said. And to him, it really didn't. He would face whatever fate had in store for him if it meant she could be safe. "Come if you have to, once you get her out, but don't leave her alone." He didn't say that he couldn't afford to lose her a second time.

Diggle exhaled, the expression on his face showing his indecision. "Fine," he finally said.

Oliver zipped up his jacket and pulled on his hood. This one time, he would risk riding on his bike with his bow and quiver in broad daylight. He would face Merlyn as well armed as possible. As he headed for the stairs, he turned to Diggle and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Bring her home, Digg." With that, he was flying up the stairs.

Xxx

As soon as Merlyn released her ponytail and terminated the video link she had made with the Foundry computers, Felicity was out of her chair and whirling to face him.

"I won't do this for you if you meet him!" She cried, and she knew her voice gave away her desperation. But she knew every time Oliver had faced the Dark Archer, he ended up badly injured. And while she had absolute faith in him, she knew he wasn't invincible. She did not want him to die to save her. She hoped that he would pick up on her hint about her location, and come here instead.

Malcolm Merlyn wrinkled his face into a snarl, apparently as tired of putting on a façade as she was. "You don't really have a say in this!" He spat, nodding to the two goons in the room with them. "If she doesn't comply, kill her." The men grabbed her and forced her into the share. When she turned to look at Merlyn again, he was gone.

She felt the edges of panic clouding her vision, and focused on her breathing as one of the guards shoved the computer in front of her. She would stay alive. He would stay alive. She had to keep it together, and believe those things right now, or she was going to absolutely lose it. She cracked her knuckles to buy a few moments, glancing at the time clock on the computer. 12:10. This place had to be maybe ten minutes from the Foundry. If Oliver . . . or Diggle really, because she strongly suspected Oliver would be sending Diggle while he went to face Merlyn . . . Anyway, if they got her veiled hint, they should be here by 12:20, or 12:25 at the absolute latest. She would have to buy herself that much time.

She started working the code. She gained entrance to the Starling National Bank system with no problem, and was about half way through the transfer when her system beeped, indicating a loss of contact. "What now?" she said, working hard to keep her hand on the keyboard instead of fisting and pumping in the air. _Yes! _ Oliver and Diggle had understood her message. Walter had helped them and had blocked her access to the Starling National Bank system. She tried for several minutes to re-establish a connection, then threw her hands in the air. "I don't understand, its as if they system is offline, all of a sudden." She gave them her best what's-a-girl-to-do face.

The goon squad had their weapons drawn then, and pointing at her. Everything became a blur. They were yelling at her, and she crouched down on the floor with her arms covering her head, because that was the only real response when people with guns point them at your head and you truly believe they will pull the trigger. And then there was a bang, and both of the men spun to face the new threat that had come barging through the door. Felicity took advantage of their distraction to _finally _make use of the training she had received from Diggle and a month of intensive self defense training. She managed to disarm one of the men, while Digg took care of the other.

Diggle grinned at her. "Good to see you haven't been letting your training slide, Felicity." He extended a hand out to her.

She grabbed his. "Never." They started for the door, and then she remembered the laptop. "Oh! Just in case," she said in explanation as she grabbed it.

Diggle pulled her into his side and squeezed her quickly. "I'm with you to the stairs, but you need to go out through the front. Officer Lance is waiting out there for you. He hasn't seen me and I want to keep it that way, for obvious reasons. Oliver asked him to come as backup. He'll see that your safe."

"But Oliver!" She cried, knowing that was where Diggle was headed.

"Oliver wants you safe, Felicity."

She rolled her eyes, realizing the gesture was lost on Diggle since they were moving down the hall. "Well I want Oliver safe, so I don't see what one has to do with the other."

"Just go with Lance and don't do anything stupid. Let me go help him, so that you can work that out with him later." He looked reassuringly at Felicity. She knew Diggle would do his best to keep Oliver safe, but she cringed when she thought how badly they had both been injured when facing Merlyn on the night of the Undertaking.

"Be careful, Digg," she said, squeezing his hand one more time as they reached the bottom of the stairs. He nodded, then headed for the back door as she ran out the front.

Officer Lance was waiting there, gun drawn, watching for any threats that might appear. "Ms. Smoak," he said, relief in his voice. "Let's get you out of here."

He opened the back door of a nondescript brown car—his own vehicle, she assumed, and she climbed in, grasping the laptop to her chest. She felt the tears coming as soon as she sat down, and tried hard to reign in the emotions. She was finally safe. _You don't get to die for me Oliver Queen. You had better come back to me_. She willed it over and over in her head, hoping it was enough to make it true.


	20. Endgame

Chapter 20: Endgame

Oliver arrived in the alley behind the warehouse Merlyn had selected. The street was deserted, which  
was good thing. The last thing he needed was someone calling the police with an Arrow sighting. It was probably the _only_ thing that would get them to enter the Glades in a hurry. He took a deep breath and focused himself on the task at hand. His past meetings with the Dark Archer had not gone well. He would need every bit of skill he had gained in the last six years at his disposal. He knew Diggle and Lance would do their best to get to safety. If Diggle was able to come back him up, he would know she was safe.

He slipped through a door and into the dark warehouse. The dinghy windows let in little of the bright noontime sun. Tilting his head, Oliver listened. Nothing. He was in battle mode as he slid soundlessly across the wide open room. He sensed the moment Merlyn came behind him, and heard the barely perceptible sound of him nocking an arrow in his bow. Oliver whirled, diving to the right and firing a shot of his own. It was on then, and he stopped thinking. He reacted on instinct alone. Rolling, firing, avoiding, circling. He felt a sensation in his left leg and knew that one of the Dark Archer's arrows had found its mark. Oliver fired an arrow that found its mark on Merlyn's body. And so they continued. Oliver wasn't sure that it would ever end.

Xxx

Felicity finally gained her composure and leaned forward toward Officer Lance. "It's not that I don't appreciate your help, because I really do, but where are we going?"

Lance shrugged. "I guess that's up to you," he said. "He wasn't too specific, just said where you _couldn't_ go and that I wasn't to leave you until he came to collect you himself. What's going on anyway?"

Instead of giving him answers she shouldn't, Felicity asked him another question. "Can you take me somewhere with an internet connection?"

"Sure, any café has those these days, but they aren't secure."

"I'll make my own security," she mumbled, already plotting. She ran her hands over the laptop, hoping it held the answers to what exactly Malcolm Merlyn was up to.

Xxx

Oliver knew he was losing. He had sustained two more injuries, and the Dark Archer was slowly closing ground between the two of them. Merlyn was in far better condition at the moment than Oliver was. If it came down to a hand to hand battle, Oliver wasn't sure that he could win. He was starting to feel slightly lightheaded from the loss of blood. It was then that he heard a gunshot, taking both him and Merlyn by surprise.

Merlyn jerked as the bullet hit his shoulder, spinning as he simultaneously nocked an arrow to fire at Diggle. But his surprise at Diggle's sudden appearance caused him to _finally _make a mistake. He turned his attention away from Oliver, giving him the opening he needed. He nocked an arrow of his own and fired it. "Diggle, DOWN!" he roared, as both his arrow and Merlyn's let fly.

Both Merlyn and DIggle fell. Digg was up in a seconds, advancing on Merlyn with his gun drawn. "You okay?" He called to Oliver, never taking his eyes of Merlyn. Oliver grunted, focusing on removing the arrows protruding from his body. He couldn't help but cry out as he removed them.

Black dots pooled in front of his vision as he moved slowly toward Digg. "Felicity?" He asked.

Diggle nodded. "Lance has her." He bent down and checked Merlyn's pulse. He was alive, but unconscious. Digg pulled zip ties from his pocket and set to securing Merlyn. "I'm calling Lance so that he can bring us our girl and call the calvary."

Oliver nodded. " Zip ties don't work," he muttered, feeling the black closing in. As he slipped into unconsciousness, he could hear Diggle calling his name.

Xxx

Felicity pumped her fist. "Yes!" She cheered. She zipped up the files she had pulled off of the laptop and sent them out. Multiple copies to the news outlets, several Glades charities, the District Attorney, and of course the police. She hadn't looked over them carefully, but the documents on the computer seemed to outline Merlyn's long-standing plan to buy up the Glades and turn it into his own domain. He wanted to rule, it would seem. And would destroy anyone and anything who stood in his way. She didn't really understand it, but the plan was there all the same.

Lance's phone rang, and she jumped. She waited as he answered, and gave a few "yeahs" and "okays."

"Well?" She demanded as he hung up. They were parked outside an internet café just outside the perimeter of the Glades, using their wireless internet.

"Have you done everything you need to?" He asked, motioning to her laptop. She looked down, confirming that everything had been sent, and nodded. "Time to go," he said, without elaborating.

She waited for him to say more, but he didn't. As they drove back into the Glades, she took a deep breath and counted to ten. Then she did it again. And again. As they neared the warehouse Merlyn had demanded Oliver meet him at, Lance reached for a handheld radio and called for backup.

Suddenly, she heard the roar of a motorcycle, and sat up in her seat. As it roared by, she was sure it was Oliver's, but the rider wore red. _Roy_. That could not be a good sign. Lance stopped on the street, her door facing the alley. She could see Digg's car at the end of the alley, but couldn't see Diggle or Oliver. Which wasn't a bad thing, since seeing Diggle would probably lead Lance to Oliver's true identity.

"End of the line," Lance said, turning to Felicity. "He's waiting for you in that car."

She put her hand on his shoulder. "I can't thank you enough for your help."

Lance nodded. "You are right, he definitely cares about this city. And about you."

She felt the tears come again, and knew she was helpless to stop him. She placed the laptop on the seat next to him. "I copied this entire thing to an FTP server, just in case. But keep an eye on it."

Lance nodded, and she opened the door, sprinting to the car. The tears fell as she ran. She opened the back door and threw herself in without a second thought. As soon as the door closed, Diggle gunned the car.

Oliver was propped up against the window on the rear driver side. The first thing she noticed was the blood. There was way, _way_ too much blood in the back of the car. She reached for him, and he slumped into her arms as she touched him. He was unconscious. "Digg!" She cried, unable to voice anything else as she took in his wounds. She took her hands and pressed them against one in his leg that seemed to be bleeding exceptionally badly.

"He's lost a lot of blood," Diggle said, maneuvering the car toward the Foundry. His tone and speed told her that that things were serious.

She pressed harder on his leg. "You don't get to die Oliver. I have to yell at you some more for sending me away. I knew you would come though. I'll always come for you too, you know. No matter how far away you try to push me, I'd come for you. So stay with me, Oliver." She rambled more to him, wishing that she didn't have his blood on her hands so that she could touch his face.


	21. Aftermath

Chapter 21: Aftermath

Felicity got the strangest feeling of déjà vu as she and Diggle brought Oliver down the stairs and to the metal medical table. It seemed surreal that this was the second time in ten months that this was happening. It seemed like she had known Oliver Queen for a lifetime.

Diggle immediately set about starting an IV for a blood transfusion. "Work on stopping the leg wound," he demanded as he worked. Felicity kept one hand pressed on Oliver's thigh and reached around Digg for some gauze. Once Digg had the blood transfusion started, he motioned Felicity away from Oliver's leg so he could start cleaning and stitching it. Felicity wiped as much of Oliver's blood as she could off her hands, then set about cutting him out of his jacket. She hissed as she saw his right arm, bandaged from shoulder to wrist. She would have asked Diggle what had happened, but at this point, it didn't matter.

Within ten minutes, they had Oliver attached to the heart monitor, and the worst of his wounds were sutured. Felicity's eyes met Diggle's, and she knew all they had to do now was wait. It was _then_ that she started shaking like a leaf. "Go clean up," Diggle said gently. "I'll stay with him."

She nodded, and stumbled toward the bathroom. She washed her hands, staining the sink red with Oliver's blood. _Too much blood_. She choked back a sob as the weight of the past few days crashed down on her. She looked in the mirror, and realized the clothes she had been wearing for the past several days were also stained red. She stripped off every ounce of clothing, depositing it in the trash. She grabbed the bag she kept hanging on a hook outside the bathroom for the days she needed a change of clothes, and emerged a few minutes later.

Diggle was sitting next to the table, his elbows on his knees, with his hands steepled under his chin.

"How's he doing?" She asked, even though she was almost afraid to know.

"Vitals are good," he said. But that was all he gave her. "How are you?"

She shook her head, pulling her desk chair over and positioning herself on the opposite side as Diggle. "What a nightmare," was all she could think to say.

"Don't ever let anyone cast you as a damsel in distress, Felicity." Diggle held her gaze. "We were hitting dead ends on finding you. You saved yourself."

She shrugged, taking in the man on the table. She felt no less trapped right now than she had when she was sitting in that tiny tenement room. She suspected she would only consider herself saved when Oliver woke up.

They sat there for awhile, Oliver between them. Finally, Felicity looked at Digg. "You should go home, get some rest."

Diggle eyed her cautiously. "I think I'll stay a bit longer. Just in case."

Felicity shrugged again, and they lapsed back in to silence. After what seemed like an eternity, Felicity walked over to the computer and pulled up some music. Diggle raised an eyebrow in question as it started to play.

"Ummm, things have been quiet the past few days. I'm pretty sure that another moment alone with my own thoughts is going to drive me insane." She thought about how she hadn't really enjoyed music since she had left Starling City. Oversharing? Who cares. "I sort of stopped listening to music when I left. Every freaking song reminded me of something I didn't want to think about."

Diggle looked at her, understanding in his eyes. "It was hard for him too, you know. He's come since you and I started helping him. He slipped back to the isolated person he was when he came back from the island."

She sighed. "This past month has sucked, John. I know it sucked for everyone. But now that I'm back, I am wondering if this . . . " She gestured to Oliver and then to the room around them. "If any of this changes anything. He may still push me away." She took a deep breath, and kept the rest inside. She knew better to hope that Oliver would feel for her the way that she did for him. It was too much to even consider it, because she knew it could never be that way.

Oliver remained stable but unconscious. Eventually, Diggle went upstairs to speak with Thea. He would pretend to be on a fetching mission for Oliver, saying he got busy with a lady friend and didn't want to leave. After covering with her, Diggle would go home for while. It had been a very long couple of days for him too, she supposed.

It wasn't until after Diggle left that Felicity scooted her chair closer. She tentatively reached out a hand and took his. She had missed him. "You are _such_ an idiot, Oliver." She said. The exhaustion of stress of the past few days swept in on her, and her eyes grew heavy. It was nice to no longer be alone. She kicked off her shoes and curled her feet under her, leaning back in the chair. Still holding his hand, she drifted off to sleep.

xxx

Memories flashed, almost too much to bear. Watching Sarah die the second time. The moment when he realized Helena was absolutely unreachable. Looking in Tommy's eyes as the life left him. He felt as if he was drifting, lost, in a sea of terrible memories. The feeling of a knife cutting his chest, back when pain was something unknow, as Slade's ex-partner tortured him. He thought he might drown in the memories. Then he felt a warm, solid grasp on his hand. It anchored him, and somehow helped him to move slowly toward the surface; away from the memories and darkness and pain.

As Oliver opened his eyes, he wasn't all surprised to see that it was Felicity who was holding his hand. He took his time and drank in the sight of her. She was asleep, and judging by the quiet in the room, they were alone, so no harm could come from it. She was dressed in workout clothes and had her bare feet curled under her in the office chair. Her glasses and their joined hands lay in her lap. Even in sleep, she still looked utterly exhausted. Music played softly in the background, a foreign sound in this particular space.

_She was safe_. The relief was nearly overwhelming. She was safe and whole and with him again. He knew that the warmth spreading through him at those details made him a selfish bastard. He knew he should try and convince himself she was better off away from him. But he thought of the sensation of her holding his hand, and how it had pulled him away from the darkness of his memories. She _would _be an anchor to all that was light and beautiful, if he let her. He knew that she could be his safe harbor. But he thought again of the night he made the decision to send her away; how her pale, unmarred skin had contrasted against his scars and she gently stroked the scar from his mother's bullet. He closed his eyes and exhaled, longing for a time when he wouldn't feel so _conflicted_.

He wanted her to stay, wanted to keep her close. She had told him once he deserved better than Isabel Rochev, and he desperately wanted to believe it. But he still wasn't sure it was _right_ of him to want more, or to deserve better. Especially not from Felicity, who had already given so much just to help him.

She started awake suddenly, terror in her eyes. He recognized the look well. She was in that space between a horrible dream and wakefulness, and wasn't sure which world was reality.

He squeezed her hand. "Shhh, its okay Felicity, you're safe." He would have sat up, but he wasn't sure he was quiet ready for that yet.

He saw awareness come back to her, and she met his eyes. "Oh!" She cried in surprise. "Oliver, you are awake." She dropped his hand, and pushed herself out of the chair. It was ridiculous that he felt bereft from the loss of the heat of her grasp. He had to get himself in check, and fast. She came closer and fluttered her hands around, as if she wasn't sure what to do with them. "How are you feeling?" She asked, settling for putting a hand on the table by his head.

"Like it's been a really long month," he said, giving her a half crooked smile.

She smiled, and he saw her eyes fill with tears. She blinked, and he watched her try to reign in her emotions. He realized that maybe hadn't been the best thing to say . . . especially considering how rough _her _month must have been. "Felicity . . . " He started. And realized he had no idea what to say. How do you even begin to apologize for what he had done? Especially since he wasn't sure he wouldn't do it again, if he thought it would keep her safe.

She wrapped her arms around herself and blinked, as if waiting for him to finish. Instead, he moved to push himself up. "Oliver, maybe you shouldn't . . . " She started, putting her hands out to steady him in case he fell.

He managed to get into a seated position on the table, and groaned. "What happened with Merlyn?"

"They are processing him now, he'll be taken to solitary at Iron Heights. The best news is that the city will forget all about your mother now, when they have the mastermind to persecute. If they were talking about the death penalty for your mom, they'll certainly seek it for him."

"Yeah, but he managed to buy my mom's verdict. We need to make sure he doesn't manage to do the same with his own."

Felicity nodded, crossing her arms back around herself again. He saw the posture for what it was . . . a defensive one. He had been so focused on getting her back and safe, he really hadn't even thought about what he should say to her.

"You should go home," he said, because he couldn't think of anything better to say.

_AN: This chapter is longer than most of them. So splitting here even though there really isn't a good place to split. And yeah, Oliver is being an idiot still. SMH! Too bad it's only Monday, huh? At least that gives me a few more days to wrap this up nice and tight. Next chapter is titled Loud Voice, so yeah, Felicity's finally going to give him what for.  
_


	22. Loud Voice

_AN: Okay, so I was going to wait to post this until tomorrow, but I just can't do it. Enjoy.  
_

Chapter 22: Loud Voice

"I should go _HOME?" _Felicity said in disbelief. She unwrapped her arms from around herself and raised her hands up, fisted them a few times, unsure of what to do. She really did want to smack him. "Oliver, I don't have an apartment in Starling City anymore." She threw her hands up into the air, as if something had exploded. "YOU moved me out of it." Now she poked him in the chest. "Without asking. Thanks for that!"

He was looking down at her finger, poking him in the chest, instead of in to her eyes, so she spun around on her bare feet and paced away, counting backwards. Nope, still livid.

"I've been kidnapped. I thought you died. I've been up to my elbows in your blood." The arms went back around her waist, because she was a little afraid she was going to fall apart any minute. "And all you can do is tell me to go home and remind me we still have arrow-ee things to do. YOU ARE AN IDIOT!" She closed her eyes and tried the counting thing again.

"Felicity . . . " Oliver started. She turned and met his eyes, waiting. Again. She watched his jaw work as he looked at the floor in front of her bare feet. He looked so conflicted and torn, and the anger fled her immediately. She took two steps forward before she reigned her traitorous heart in. She watched as he inhaled, exhaled. Repeated. Finally he met her eyes.

"I am so, so sorry. For all of it. But you are better off without . . . "

She closed the distance between them in two steps and cut him off, pointing a finger at him. "Don't say it! Don't you dare say I'm better off without you!" It hurt that he would be so ready to get rid of her again, after all that they had been through. She was just so tired of all of it. The muscle in his jaw was working again.

"But you are!" He roared. His eyes locked on her, and then slid down to the floor. "We're not," he said. "Diggle and I were completely useless without you. We couldn't find anything to help us find you. But you would be better off had I had never gotten in the back of that car." He was still at her feet.

She always tried to respect that he didn't seem to want her touch. She had always, with very few exceptions, held herself back from him. But she figured it was now, or never. She took both hands and framed his face, bringing his gaze up to meet hers. She felt as if she were standing on a precipice, about to find if they would fly, or fall. His eyes met hers, and she was struck again by the pain in them.

"Stop being an idiot. Ask _me_, Oliver. Ask me if I regret it. If I would trade you climbing into my car. Or bringing that laptop into my office. Or even the freaking EA job, which I hate. Ask me if I would change any of it. Even after the hell of the last couple days."

She felt his hands come up to her hips, and she felt a spark of electricity. And hope, because just maybe the stubborn idiot was going to listen to her. Maybe, just maybe, there was_ more._

"Would you?" He ground out slowly. It sounded as if even saying the words pained him. She looked at his eyes, and was surprised to see that he didn't look certain of her answer.

"Not a single thing," she said. "Except the part where you were an idiot and pushed me away. And I was stupid enough to go, because obviously _that _didn't work so well. What about you, Oliver. Would YOU change it?" It was time for the moment of truth.

He looked at her and swallowed, his jaw working again. She felt his grasp on her hips tighten, and he pulled her closer, opening his legs to make room for her. He leaned his forehead against hers. "I should say yes." He said, with his eyes closed. "Because it would be safer for you."

"I've been safe my whole life," she whispered. "There was nothing remarkable about it." She allowed one of her hands to trail to the back of his neck.

xxx

Oliver's eyes flew up to meet hers as she said the words. She met his gaze, steady and sure and strong. She knew his demons, what he had done, and she still was standing here, so close to him, telling him she would take the risk. She was brave and so remarkable that he was sure he would never be able to deserve her, yet here she stood. And Oliver gave up. He was tired of fighting. He had tried pushing her away, and it hadn't accomplished anything except almost getting her killed. She wanted this. For reasons he couldn't understand, she wanted _him. _ And God help him, he wanted her. Consequences be damned. His skin was on fire where she stroked it, and he finally gave up on the struggle he'd been waging longer than he realized. He wrapped his arms completely around her waist and pulled her flush against him, his mouth crashing down on hers.

As soon as their lips met, he knew she was right. He _was_ an idiot, because it had taken them entirely too much to get to this point. Nothing had ever felt as right, _as clean_, as kissing Felicity. She gave herself over to him completely, leaning in and wrapping both arms around his neck. Soon both their breathing was ragged, and he had to pull back.

Felicity looked absolutely shocked, and took a big step back. "Um, I wasn't expecting that."

Oliver sighed, and pushed himself up off the table, taking the IV out of his arm.

"Would you please be careful?" She cried.

He stepped in to her space, and took her face in his hands, again struck by the rightness of the feeling. "I shouldn't have sent you away." He whispered, and any rambling she may have been gearing up for died on her lips as she met his gaze again. "I wanted to keep you safe, and it was far easier to push you away then to deal with how I felt when I knew the Count had you, Felicity. I thought I could protect you when I brought you in to this, but I didn't really understand . . . " He let his forehead rest on hers again, moving his head gently side to side so that their noses brushed. She leaned in to him.

He inhaled, letting himself soak up her nearness. "I can't lose you, Felicity."

Her hands were on his face again. "Same goes, Oliver," she said gently. "I sit in that chair most days and I don't know if you'll come back or not. But it doesn't change anything." Her hands slid down and spread over his bare chest tracing the outline of his scars as she went. "It doesn't change how I feel. Nothing does." It occurred to him that she already knew how many of those scars came to be, and that he could tell her how the others got there. She would not be horrified. She would be sad that she suffered so much pain, but she would not pity him. Because she _loved him_. Which was an amazing, crazy miracle. Then he was kissing her again, because _she loved him_. Hope was an incredible, amazing thing.

Just One more moment, that's all that's needed.  
Like wounded soldiers in need of healing.  
Time to be honest, this time I'm pleading  
Please don't dwell on it, cause I didn't mean it.

I cant believe I said I'd lay our love on the ground  
But it doesn't matter cause I've made it up forgive me now  
Everyday I spend away my soul's inside out  
Gotta be someway that I can make it up to you now, somehow.

By now you'd know that I'd come for you  
No one but you, yes I'd come for you  
But only if you told me to  
And I'd fight for you  
I'd lie, it's true  
Give my life for you  
You know I'd always come for you.

I was blindfolded, but now I'm seeing  
My mind was closing, now I'm believing  
I finally know just what it means to let someone in  
To see the side of me that no one does or ever will  
So if you're ever lost and find yourself all alone  
I'd search forever just to bring you home,  
Here and now this I vow.

By now you'd know that I'd come for you  
No one but you, yes I'd come for you  
But only if you told me to  
And I'd fight for you  
I'd lie, it's true  
Give my life for you  
You know I'd always come for you  
You know I'd always come for you.

No matter what gets in my way  
As long as there's still life in me  
No matter what, remember you know I'll always come for you.

Yes I'd come for you, no one but you,  
Yes I'd come for you  
But only if you told me to.

And I'd fight for you  
I'd lie, it's true  
Give my life for you  
You know I'd always come for you.

No matter what gets in my way  
As long as there's still life in me  
No matter what, remember you know I'll always come for you  
I'd crawl across this world for you  
Do anything you want me to  
No matter what, remember you know I'll always come for you  
You know I'll always come for you.

~Nickleback, _I'd Come For You_

_AN: And, I think that's it. This thing has been a bit of a monster that would NOT leave me alone. Thus nearly 30,000 words in less than 2 weeks. I never intended for it to be quite as big as it was, (or for Merlyn's motives to play as big of a part as they did), but I have loved reading each and every one of your reviews. Thank you for your support! Wednesday can't get here soon enough! I am forever in favor of slow burning Olicity. Arrow is hands down my favorite show this season._

_Oh, and I realized I made two mistakes . . . (well probably more than 2 but whatever). . . Forgot Felicity was Jewish, and Oliver speaks CHINESE, not Japanese, but oh well. Thank you so much for reading. _


End file.
